Modern Warfare 3: One Girl, Four Men
by VioletIsabelleLovett
Summary: I didn't ever expect to come this far. Never. I was only a doctor and I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to be in the Task Force 141. And I didn't want to fall in love with Captain John Price either. But all that matters now is Makarov. We've got to find Makarov.
1. The Men She Met

**A/N: This is going to be a chapter story. Just one warning, there will be events on here that are AU, because of the new character I'm introducing. Not everything will happen 100% like it does in the game.**

**Disclaimer: All places, events, and characters except my OC all belong to Activision and all the other brilliant people who've developed ModernWarfare3! Thanks for reading everyone, and PLEASE review, good or bad. Reviews keep me motivated!**

When I filled out my medical history, I made sure not to include that I had asthma. They would never let me in if they knew I had a breathing disability. And surprisingly, it wasn't that hard to sneak in three full tiny asthma inhalers when they did accept me. I mean, I was just working as an army doctor. It's not like I'd be seeing any action.

The problem was, with Makarov's men closing in soon, any site and any place could turn into a battlefield. I honestly think they purposely didn't check my medical history. The war was reaching desperate measures, even with the government using the draft enlistment.

Luckily, I was just a doctor, working to care for sick and injured soldiers.

The thing was, you see, I HAD experience. I worked at St. Mary's Hospital in New York City beforehand, as one of the youngest doctors in the building. I had completed high school early and started medical school right away. So at age 28, I was already working in a hospital.

I decided to join the military almost immediately, when I heard of Russia's threat to the United States. I let my family know on the smallest notice. I knew they'd object, and worry about me, but I didn't need them or my friends, trying to talk me out of it.

Me, a girl of 28 (soon to be 29) with short black hair, standing at 5'9", and weighing about 140 pounds, would be joining the military.

My name is Petral, by the way. It's a bit of an odd name, but hey, my parents were odd people. But I really don't want to talk about my parents…I'm writing this to clear my mind, because I've seen some really ugly things. Things I know I'll never forget even when I turn old and gray. My parents weren't there. They don't understand. So I'll write about me, the men I've met and befriended, and my hero, Captain Price and how he defeated Valdmir Makarov.

This'll be an interesting story, I promise. Because I never expected to come as far as I did, and to this day, I still don't entirely believe it. It feels like it all happened in a dream. No, a nightmare. A bad nightmare that I'll never forget. But it wasn't a nightmare, it was real. And I hope that one day someone will believe me that every word is true.

The Russians had destroyed the former hospital. So now, there was a large abandoned safehouse building where the patients were held on cots, and medical supplies was crammed everywhere. It was noisy. There was the sound of patients groaning, the electricity generator running, doctors and nurses running from section to section of the small building, and medical equipment beeping.

These doctors were the allies, the Loyalists in Russia.

And it smelled like all hell had been released on earth.

This 'hospital' was a last resort. It was right in the middle of a destroyed town in Afghanistan, and only one other doctor besides me spoke English.

So that kind of sucked. But I was able to do my job well, either way.

But none of us were prepared when the bombs started raining.

People were running, screaming, trying to evacuate the building. I panicked, not knowing whether I should stay with the patients or run with the doctors. I dove under a table, attempting to take cover.

It was a bit stupid, I know, but it was the last thing I could think of.

More bombs were exploding, and now I heard rapid gunfire outside, and men screaming and shouting. I was able to detect English, and some other language, probably Russian. I screamed, knowing no one could hear me.

S

uddenly, I heard voices as men burst through the door.

There were four of them. Three carrying one injured man.

"_Keep pressure on that wound!" _one man yelled, his accent sounding British.

"I'm trying!" another yelled, this one Russian. I scrambled out from under the table as the two men laid another on the long operating table across the large room.

"Hang in there, my friend," the Russian muttered.

"He needs help, _now!" _the British man yelled over the roar of the gunfire outside.

I spoke up, my voice shaking badly. "I-I'm a doctor! I'm a doctor…"

The three men standing above the injured man looked at me. The British man spoke first. "Go, help him, quickly!"

I rushed over to the injured man, panicking. His chest was crushed, and he was barely breathing.

The Russian man spoke, yelling to be heard over the ever-growing volume of gunfire. "I've secured a safe route out of the country! A helicopter is waiting outside, but we need to _move!"_

Looking around, I grabbed an adrenaline shot that was lying on the ground and jabbed the injured man's heart with it, attempting to keep my hands from shaking.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

That would buy him time.

"Price!" the Russian man screamed. "They're coming into the building!"

The British man, Price, looked at me. "You know how to use a gun?"

Did I know how to use a gun? My dad taught me how to use a rifle, and we'd go up to the range every Saturday when I was younger. He said it might be useful someday when I was older. But I had never _killed _a man.

When I was 16, my dad took me hunting. I had shot one deer, and I had been so proud of myself then. But a deer was different then a man and I was hardly a trained soldier like these guys.

I stared at him, and he shoved a gun into my hands. I looked up at him, then down at the gun.

Price, the Russian, and the other man picked up their injured friend, and carried him out of the safehouse. Ha. Safehouse. Hear the irony in that one?

I wasn't breathing so well now, and I feared I'd have another asthma attack. I had two of my inhalers in my coat pocket, but I could hardly use any of them now.

"Nikolai, Yuri! Take Soap, I'll take point. _You!"_

Price pointed at me. "Come with us. Move!"

Price held his gun at point, and I tried to remember what my father taught me.

_Keep your breathing steady and calm, Petra. Your heart rate needs to be low._

Well that was just _great _advice when you had men shooting at you in the middle of Afghanistan, as you're trying to run with two soldiers holding a dying man towards a helicopter in the middle of having an asthma attack.

The helicopter was about two-hundred yards from the building, and we were facing heavy fire. I tried to keep my mind blank as my chest steadily grew heavier, my breathing more labored. One man ran at me, his gun raised.

I shot. He collapsed. Price, Nikolai, Yuri, Soap and I kept moving.

I'll remember that moment as the first time I killed a man.

I followed them, my vision growing ever so blurry by the second, as I forced myself to keep moving, keep moving, keep moving…

Gun fire rang around me, deafening me. I could barely hear the three men running in front me. I knew as long as I kept my mind blank, my eyes open, I'd be able to keep following them.

Another man in front of me, gun raised. I shot and he collapsed. If it was one thing I was good at here, was keeping my mind blank, even though I was panicking.

We heaved Soap onto the helicopter, and Price pulled me up. I realized my stomach was bleeding, and only did then did I realize it hurt.

As my vision darkened, I scrambled for my asthma inhaler as the helicopter took off with us on board. I took a long breath from my inhaler as my vision blackened, my arms heavy. The last thing I remember was the helicopter taking off, and Price shouting above the roar.

I awoke with a blanket around me, my stomach bandaged. The four men were sitting about ten feet away. They were talking, unaware that I had awoken. I could just barely make out their voices over the roar of the helicopter.

"Price, you're bloody _insane,_" one man said. He had a Russian accent, but it was different than Nikolai's. His voice was rougher, and a bit quieter.

Yuri.

I opened my eyes a crack and saw him sitting across from Price, glaring at him.

"Why the _hell _would you bring her with us? Is she even a trained soldier?"

Price lowered his head, and for a moment, he didn't speak.

"Yuri, didn't you see the way she jumped up and immediately went to help Soap? She was just a bloody doctor, and she acted like a soldier in there! She didn't even hesitate. _And _she killed two men as we were running to the helicopter. She was the only person in that building, and it was about to get bombed. How the hell could I have left her?"

Yuri glared at him. "She has _asthma, _Price. And she's just a doctor! She's not fit to be a soldier! Do you honestly expect her to fight with us?"

"I'm going to leave it up to her. Nikolai will be able to take her to a refugee spot if she refuses to help. But I know you can see something different about her Yuri. Nikolai, don't you? I know a good soldier when I see one, Yuri."

Nikolai sighed. "She is different. She is brave…I agree with Price. We should leave it up to her."

Yuri sighed angrily. "I trust you Price. I trust you with my life. And I hope to God I can trust that you're not making a bloody big mistake. If it were anyone else giving me this bloody ridicules idea, I'd give 'em a good slap across the head."

Price chuckled quietly. "I know you would, Yuri. If anything, that's one thing I can count on you for."

They were quiet then. I didn't know what to think. Me…different? Brave? Did I really look that way to Price? I shivered a little under my blanket. They were going to ask me to join them. Right now, I didn't know what to think. The idea frightened me a little, but also excited me.

I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, imagining myself as a soldier, a war hero. My dreams were confusing that night. In them, I was running away from some giant monster in an abandoned city. It kept telling me that if I could defeat it, I'd be the greatest hero in the world. All I had was a pistol, with no ammo. I awoke again late in the night, and didn't sleep till morning.


	2. She's a Soldier?

**A/N: Just going to say this once again, not everything is going to happen exactly as it did in the game. Just bear with me, and enjoy the story! Thanks to everyone who's checked it out so far!**

Chapter 2: She's a Soldier?

By the time I decided I should probably get up, Price and Yuri were already awake. Soap, bandaged in multiple places on his body, was still asleep on the floor of the helicopter, and not looking good. He was bandaged in multiple places, and his breath was heaving and raspy. I rose slowly to my feet, wary of my bandaged stomach. It was a little sore, but it didn't hurt too bad.

If you thought about it, it was really amazing how we managed to sleep at all. The constant beating of the helicopter blades was enough to keep anyone awake, but I guess these guys were used to it. I had been exhausted enough to sleep through a nuclear bomb.

I quickly checked my pockets. Both my inhalers were still there. Price was sitting across from me next to Yuri, about ten or so feet away. They were talking to each other, keeping their voices low.

Price nodded at me, standing up in his chair.

"Do you mind if I take a look at your stomach? The damage is minimal, the bullet only grazed you. You got lucky this time..."

I nodded, biting my lip. Price wasn't bad looking, but his face was worn from years of being a soldier. He had a mustache and a thick, yet short beard. He wasn't real tall, he was actually shorter than me, which really wasn't unusual.. I had always been tall for my age. He stood at about 5'7" or so, and walked with a long stride. His voice was rough, just as Yuri's was.

He too had a worn face, obviously a soldier for a long time. He was a bit taller, around my height. His head was shaven, and he had a super thick Russian accent, even thicker than Nikolai's. Both men, and Soap, were all older than me.

He lifted my shirt, carefully removing the bandages from my stomach to reveal a long, narrow blotchy red scab that ran about halfway across my stomach.

"I'm no doctor," he said, grimacing a bit, "But it isn't too deep, and I don't think it's infected yet. We have some medicine you can take to make sure it doesn't start festering. I'll replace your bandages, unless you'd rather do it yourself."

I looked at him, trying to appear confident and strong-willing. "I can do it."

My voice was a bit hoarse, but I don't think I sounded as nervous as I felt. He handed me a roll of bandages and a pair of scissors. I had done this multiple times for patients.

"We'll be landing soon Price, and we've gotta get Soap to professional medical help. We have almost nothing to help him in here... You should just tell her straight up. Give her the option now," Yuri said from his chair, looking down at Soap with a grimace.

Price looked at me. "He's right. Look, I want to ask you something. What was your name again?"

I thought back to what they had been discussing last night. Oh boy.

"Petral. Petral Levark." I snipped off a bandage from the roll and began wrapping my stomach in it.

He nodded. "You showed quite the signs of a good soldier back at the safehouse. My men and I could all see that you knew how and when to make a quick decision. This is what we need in a soldier...and we've been growing desperate. I only want to do one thing, and that's kill Makarov. I'm giving you the option to join us, Petral Levark. You seem to know how to handle a gun, and with some instruction from me, you'll know how to handle one better. What do you say?"

I looked right at him, taking a few steady breaths. What _did _I say to that? I think the answer came to me pretty quickly then. Because that's when the awful memories started again.

Getting off the airplane in Afghanistan. Walking down towards the desk. The young man, holding a stack of letters, one for me. One saying that my home in New York city had been blown to shreds, not long after I departed. The letter that told me that my parents had been blown to shreds right along with it.

So I said yes. Because it was all in the name, _that _name. Vladimir Makarov.

Price told me that normally, he wouldn't just pick up soldiers like he did me. But he was desperate. Yuri agreed, if somewhat begrudgingly, and Soap did too, who had finally awoken and was listening to Price and I talk. And I could see it in his eyes. That _look_ that the other two men didn't have. He wanted Makarov dead as much as I did, possibly more.

Price studied me, then held out his hand. "I'm Captain John Price, leader of the now disavowed Task Force 141. I hope that you'll fight well, Sergeant Levark."

I nodded, taking his hand and shaking it respectfully. "Thank you, Captain."

Not meeting my eyes, Yuri walked over and shook my hand. "Yuri. Welcome to the team."

I gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"This here is John MacTavish." Price continued, gesturing to the broken soldier lying on the ground . "But we call him Soap. I'm hoping we can get him to proper medical safety in time...I don't know how long he's going to last. He's a strong bastard, but his arm is broken, and he's been losing so much blood from the stab wound in his chest..."

My mouth fell open. "_Stab_ wound?"

His face was grim. "Yeah. He killed the bastard that stabbed him...bloody hero, he is..."

His voice trailed off, his eyes wandering for a moment. I wondered what had happened, but I knew this wasn't the greatest time to ask.

"Nikolai Belinkski is operating our helicopter. Now look. We could be seeing some really heavy action tomorrow, and I want to show you basic gun setup. Don't get yourself get killed, and if you don't feel confident enough, don't shoot. Don't get in anyone's way."

Don't get myself killed? I'd try my best.

"God, I feel like a bloody fool doing this, but I have a feeling I can count on you Levark. Tell me now, what triggers your asthma?"

I grimaced. "Nothing in particular, my attacks usually occur between three and four days apart. I'm almost certain I won't get one by tomorrow... I know I'm no SAS troop, sir, but I don't think I'd slow you and your team down."

Price nodded back. "Good. And don't call me sir, Levark...my men and I are long past that..."

Yuri gave a gruff laugh, still staring grimly at Soap.

I smiled. "Right. Okay. When can I start?"

Price turned to Yuri. "What did I tell you? We're about to face heavy bloody fire, and this girl wants to jump right in. This is what I like in a soldier."

I looked down, a bit flattered, not sure what to say

"Here's what you're gonna do, Levark. We have next to no medical supplies here on the chopper, but we're heading to a safehouse in India, and I want you to treat him with whatever you've got, you understand?"

I nodded firmly. "Yes."

"Alright." Price carried over a medium-sized sub-machine gun and handed it to me. "I can't say if I know what's going to happen once we reach India...I'm almost positive we'll be facing Russian forces once we arrive, and I want you to learn how to use one of these until we can transport you to safety, so listen up close."

I nodded again. I could do this.

"This is an Ak-47. Got it so far?"

I nodded. It was heavy, but I could lift it.

"Good. Now listen closely..."

He went into the details of it, showing me how to load and unload, and the correct way to pull the trigger when it was unloaded. It wasn't overly difficult to handle, and I was able to remember everything. He had me load and unload it seven times in a row as fast as I could, and soon it almost became muscle memory for me.

He also showed me the correct way to hold an aim a pistol, and how to load and unload it. We couldn't practice firing since we were on a helicopter, but honestly, I felt confident in myself.

Price did too, which helped so much. Yuri still refused to look at me, and I knew he still didn't approve of me joining the team. But really, who would? I was no troop. I had experience in the military, but that was only because I was a doctor. I had quick reflexes, and I was a fairly quick learner, but I was no troop. I figured I was the disposable one in the group here, the one who's death wouldn't be something to stress over if I _did_ die. And anyway, if I didn't die by tomorrow, I'd be off by the end of the week.

We spent the rest of the day in the helicopter, going over different weapon techniques and the technicalities of different guns. Unloadoing, reloading, trigger pull, aim. We stopped that night, after taking a lunch break of some bread and water. Yuri had fallen asleep next to Soap.

Price looked at me, hard and serious. "Now look, Levark. I'm only giving you this option because I'm desperate, you understand? Two years ago, I'd think myself to be bloody fool to let an undertrained, low-experience soldier join my ranks. You showed wit back there in the safehouse, wit and quick-thinking. And that's what I need my men to be like. But this is an option for you! And I'm not guaranteeing you'll make it out alive, you got that?"

I looked at him, keeping my expression calm and unbending. Price gave it to me as it was. He was telling to truth, and I knew it. I understood. But I wanted to prove myself. I _wanted_ to save a life. And in this case, I could save the soldier laying on the ground, with a barely contained stab wound in his chest. Captain John "Soap" MacTavish needed help. I didn't know that man, not at all, but he was a soldier, a soldier defending our world and putting his life at risk to save everyone else's.

And he wasn't looking so good right now, and the three of us weren't sure if he'd even make it 'till morning.

"I understand. And I want to help. You guys are soldiers, right? Don't you risk your lives all the time to make sure all of us live? Has anyone ever given _back_ to you? Price, I have nothing to go back to, and nothing more to lose. Makarov killed my family in New York city."

How did I managed to say that without breaking down and sobbing, or wanting to scream and pull out my hair? I imagined telling someone one day, about my family, and just ending up in a mental hospital. But surprisingly, I was able to say it without breaking down. Without falling apart.

Price didn't anything. He studied me respectfully, and I could tell we both reached an agreement. We both had one thing in common now...we hated Makarov. And if nothing else, this would at least give him somewhat of a comfort. I hated Makarov, and he did too. I didn't know this man with the bright blue eyes, and the bushy beard and mustache, but I knew that saving his friend and ally's life would be one step towards his and my goal.

"We'll be arriving in India the day after tomorrow...and I'm bloody praying Soap'll be strong enough to hold off till then. Yuri was able to get some water into him, but he's getting weaker, and that wound in his chest is close to getting infected. We'll have all the medical supplies we'll need down at the safehouse, enough so you and any other doctor's that might be there can treat him before Russian forces arrive."

I nodded. I hoped so too.

I fell asleep pretty quickly that night. Our primary staple of food on the helicopter was bread. There was a lot of it, but most of it was half-way stale. But for whatever reason, I was exhausted and the blades of the helicopter whirling was almost soothing.

The next day on the chopper wasn't real eventful. Soap woke up, and we coaxed some water and small pieces of bread into him. He had trouble swallowing, and he could barely speak.

"We'll be there soon Soap. Just hang in there. This lady's going to help us."

He turned his head slowly to where I kneeled beside him. He gave me a small smile.

"Mmh. Well, at least she's hot." he croaked, grinning widely now.

I couldn't help it. I laughed, blushing just a little.

Price glared at him. "Watch your bloody mouth Soap, you're not fifteen."

But he tried not to crack a smile as he said it.

Price and I spent the rest of the day going over positions, and he showed me how to work this small machine pistol, unloading, loading, and trigger pull. Same stuff as before. We spent most of our free time wandering around the tiny helicopter, stretching our legs, and nibbling on bread and cheese. At around eight o'clock that night, Price sat down with Yuri and me.

"We've gone over this. You guys know what to do?" he asked gravely.

I nodded. We'd gone over this multiple times. We'd both grab Soap and move him directly into the safehouse. There, I'd treat him with whatever I could find, hopefully with the help of other doctors, if they were there. We had to do it fast, because Russian troops were expected to be closing in soon. We'd have to fight out way out, and somehow push through the line of troops.

Sounded simple enough being told through Price's steady, calm voice.

I slept fitfully that night, and woke the next morning to someone shaking me.

"_Get up! Wake up, Levark, we're landing!"_

"Hwuh?" I blubbered groggily. Price was shaking me, over and over. "Get up! Let's go, we have to move!"

I scrambled to my feet, and Price shoved an earpiece into my hands. "Put this on. Hostile forces are moving in fast, and we have to treat Soap! Let's move!"

Yuri and I lifted Soap between us, supporting him as we jumped off the helicopter. The building was right in front of this small courtyard, surrounded by others that looked years old. Moving as fast as we could, Price lead Yuri and I, heaving Soap's weight between the two of us, into the building and up the steps.

"Lay him down here!" Price pointed to a long medical table. I glanced out the window, short panic rising in my chest. No soldiers yet, but where were the other doctors? It was just the three of us up here.

"Levark, what can you use that's up here? We haven't got much time." Price said quickly

I scanned the room. Bandages, multiple syringes, oxygen tanks, IV drips, scalpels...

I hurried over to the desk where about seven or so syringes laid on the front. My mind wheeled. Soap could only be in worse condition now, after moving him the way that we did. I grabbed morphine, adrenaline, and a sewing kit. The wound on his chest would need to be sewn, but did we have the time for that?

Looks like I'd have to find out.

"I'm going to patch him up, but I'm going to be quick about it. It won't be perfect, but we're running low on time."

Price nodded. "Do what you can Levark, and hurry."

I hurried over to where Soap laid on the table. He was groaning in pain now, and his arms were jerking. I injected him with the morphine, and quickly took off the tightly wrapped bandage that covered the wound. God, it was wrapped so tightly, it's a wonder he could breathe at all. But I then knew why it had been wrapped the way it had.

The second I took it off, it started bleeding so heavily that I had to practically crush his chest to stop the blood flow.

"He's going to lose a lot of blood, but I have to get this stitched. Help me keep his arms still, and apply pressure to any part of the wound I'm not stitching."

It was a small wound, but whoever had stabbed him had done a pretty good job at it.

Determined, I stitched up the wound as quickly as I could as Price and Yuri tried to keep him still. He was losing a _lot _of blood now, and I was afraid it would be too much. He groaned, and clenched his teeth as I worked on him. The moment I was done was when the first explosion went off.

Price, Yuri and I hit the ground, as several more erupted outside. We grabbed our guns, and heaved Soap away from the windows. Shouts and gunfire went off around us outside.

I was startled to hear Nikolai's voice in my earpiece.

_"You guys are completed surrounded! You need to move NOW!__**"**_

Price ran over to the window and started firing off his gun, as Yuri and I moved Soap to safety. He wasn't bleeding as badly anymore, but he was still weak from blood loss.

"Yuri, Levark, grab Soap and get him to cover! We've got to-"

He was cut off by a voice in our earpiece that wasn't Nikolai. The man had a Russian accent, and his voice was thin and reedy, very contrasting to Yuri's. I've never heard anything like it. You don't trust a man who had a voice like this one, whether you know him or not.

"Nice to see you're still fighting, Captain Price. I hope to see you very, _very _soon."

Then our earpieces were quiet.

I looked at Price. He stood, frozen in silence with a look of pure horror on his face.

"Price, who _was _that?" I demanded as we laid low against the wall, out of the range of fire. Yuri was silent as usual, but looked like he just saw a ghost.

"That was Makarov, Levark."

**A/N: Yeah, I know, that last bit didn't happen in the game. But I'm just going to be changing and adding a few things here and there, but still going to try and stick to the original story of MW3. Reviews keep me motivated, so tell me what you think!**


	3. Proving Herself

_Oh my God. Oh my **God.**_

Price looked horrified. I was scared, and very confused. Yuri turned to Price, just as confused as we were.

"Price, how did Makarov get into our systems?"

Price yelled into his earpiece. "Nikolai! Nikolai, do you read me?"

After a moment, we heard Nikolai's voice. "Da, but someone hacked into our systems. We can't trace it, we-"

His words were lost by a thundering crash as a downed helicopter smashed into the safehouse, missing us by only ten feet. It left a large, gaping hole in the wall to reveal the balcony overlooking the courtyard outside. With a loud groan, the chopper fell back outside as men began flooding into the courtyard. We gaped at it, realizing how close we came to being crushed.

"I'm coming upstairs!" Nikolai yelled, and a moment later he burst through the door, staring in shock at the large hole.

"We have to get Soap to safety. Yuri, Levark, take position on the balcony and clear out the courtyard. Nikolai, help me get Soap to his feet, he's lost a lot of blood! Levark, you _take cover_ and _only _shoot at what you can kill, got it?"

I nodded quickly, taking position with Yuri behind a post as bullets rained around us. My heart was racing. Could I do this? I saw one man crouched at my left flank, ready to shoot. I fired. He fell. Yuri and I aimed our guns at the oncoming mob of soldiers entering the courtyard and quickly cut them down. It was relatively simple, since there wasn't much to aim at. Just breathe steady and fire.

"Yuri, Levark, on me! We need to clear the area so Nikolai can take Soap to the chopper. Follow me!"

A soldier burst into the room. Price quickly finished him by delivering a kick to the gut, and a shot to the head. I made a mental note to try that sometime, if I lived past today.

We ran through the door we had originally come through, finishing off the Russian soldiers positioned in the hallway. Running down a flight of steps and out another door, we reached the courtyard.

"Yuri, take Levark and find cover! We got company!"

The two of us crouched behind a destroyed car, guns ready as more and more men flooded in. I looked around for lone soldiers, trying to catch us by surprise, and managed to take down two.

I remember hearing a loud _clink! _Like metal hitting a hard surface, in our case, pavement. I remember Yuri screaming something, then him grabbing my arm and roughly yanking me to the side. Seconds later, an explosion went off where we were just crouching, knocking us off our feet. Looking back, I remember that he had shouted "Grenade!"

Yuri had saved me from a grenade explosion.

Me, the girl he highly disapproved of. The undertrained army doctor. The _disposable_ girl. He could have saved himself, leaving me to die. It would have been simple. He would tell Price that I died, and they'd continue trying to finish their mission, getting Soap to safety, and eventually killing Makarov.

But he didn't. He saved me, and I was still alive.

We fell to the ground, me landing hard on my wrist, probably spraining it. I looked at him, stunned. I figured this wouldn't be the best time to start gushing out a thank-you. For a moment, we just stared at each other until another explosion brought us back to our senses. We scrambled to our feet, using the destroyed car as cover once more as we cleared out the courtyard.

"The courtyard's clear!" a Russian yelled into our earpieces.

"That's one of the Loyalists." Yuri quickly explained, as we hurried over to join Price. "One of Nikolai's men, like me."

I nodded, as Price lead us over to the gate leading out of the courtyard and onto the street.

"Nikolai, we're outnumbered and outgunned. We're gonna need some heavier firepower if we're going to clear the way to this chopper," Price said urgently into the earpiece.

"Da, there is a weapons cache located down the street, where a UGV is stored and ready to be deployed. Push your way down the street and get to the cache. I'm going to start moving Soap now."

I didn't know what a UGV was, but Price sure seemed to. His eyes widened, and for a brief moment, a small smile flickered across his face. Dang. I wondered what it could be. I glanced at Yuri. He looked pretty surprised at the news.

Price kicked open the gate, leading to the street lined with buildings outside.

"Hold your fire! Civilians!" Price shouted. Yuri and I lowered our guns, as dozens of screaming people ran past us. Some were wounded, some worse than others.

"Yuri, up with me! Levark, stay back and direct those civilians to safety. Most of them might not speak English, so you'll have to find a way to get them into the safehouse. Move!"

I ran to the left, while Price and Yuri joined the other Loyalists to the right and up the street. I hurried over to a group of people huddled behind the wall that extended out from the courtyard. Their eyes widened in terror when they saw me.

"Is anyone here a doctor?" I demanded. One woman cautiously spoke up. "I am." I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God.

I pointed to the gate that Price, Yuri and I had come through. "Through that gate is a courtyard. There's a building on the far end with a large hole in the front. In that room, you'll find all the medical supplies you'd need to tend to any patients that need it. Can you take everyone in there help out anyone who's injured?"

She nodded, looking confident. Turning to the rest of them, she began speaking in her native language, Hindi, I figured, to the rest of the group and pointing to the gate. They seemed to agree to follow her, nodding and murmuring. I told the woman to tell everyone to carry those who were badly injured, and for everyone to help each other out. I crouched behind the wall, trying to keep sight on Price. I spotted his hat further down the street, near one of the buildings.

I helped a young boy lift his injured mother off the ground, who had begun to cry. I motioned for a man to help the boy as I hurried to find any other civilians who might still be alive.

I couldn't believe I was doing this, acting as a leader to these frightened people. I was surprised I was able to handle it. If there was one thing I liked about Price, it was that he didn't underestimate me just because I was a girl.

Gunfire roared around me, men screaming and shouting. Price and Yuri had advanced further up. I pressed a button on my earpiece and spoke into it, hoping I was doing it right.

"Price, I got the civilians into the safehouse."

He answered immediately. "Make your way up the street to join us. Don't get caught in the open, duck behind cars and be _careful_ who you shoot. We have the Loyalists here with us. Move up!"

"Be right there."

I went prone, crawling towards a wrecked car about fifteen feet away, keeping my eyes out for anyone with a gun aimed at me. I crouched behind the car, scanned the area, and then sprinted to the next one further up. Price, Yuri, and the Loyalists had managed to clear this part of the street out well, but I still had to be careful.

"Price!" I called out. He was crouched under the balcony of one of the buildings when I finally reached him. His eyes widened. I think he was honestly surprised that I was still alive. I wasn't sure if that annoyed me or not yet. I'd think about it later.

"Nice work, Levark. Now Yuri, over here and follow me! The building containing the UGV is just down the street here. Let's move!"

We ran down the street, taking a right and running towards a larger building. Gunfire was still roaring, but we didn't stop.

"UGV's this way!" Price shouted.

We ran through one building, then out another, keeping out of the battlezone as much as possible. Finally we reached it, the building containing the UGV.

Price cautiously opened the door, leading us into a cluttered room. Nikolai's voice came into our earpieces again. "The UGV is in a shipping crate directly below you."

Price scanned the floor, finding a cellar door about five feet away. He opened it, and we hurried downstairs. The lower room was cluttered as well, but the shipping crate was one of the biggest objects in the room.

Price opened it, revealing what looked like a large metal death machine on wheels.

"UGV. Unmanned Ground Vehicle. Two centimeters of armor plating, mounted mini gun, _and_ a grenade launcher."

Now keep in mind, I haven't been fighting alongside Price for very long, but I knew him well enough that he was the kind of 'keep calm, no nonsense accepted' kind of guy. He took every situation maturely and in a leader-like fashion. Yet even he couldn't hide the giddiness and excitement in his voice as he described this machine of mass destruction. My mouth hung open as I stared at it. I mean, it wasn't even all that huge, it just looked threatening. And it was.

"Jesus Christ…that thing is…_whoa_…" I stammered, unable to take my eyes off of it. Price nodded. "Exactly. Yuri, the instructions are in Russian. You're up."

I watched Yuri as he walked over to the computer, readying the controls. The thing was operated on that computer alone. You had to admit…it was pretty cool.

Price spoke into his earpiece. "What's Soap's condition?"

Nikolai responded, sounding panicked. "We've got to get him out of here!"

"We're on our way, just keep moving!" Price said back. He turned to me.

"Levark, with me. Yuri, clear the path to the chopper, and be careful not to hit us. Nikolai's on the way with Soap now. Let's move out, we're almost there!"

Price lifted the large door, the kind you see in garages, and we moved out quickly. Moments later, we heard the loud whirr of the UGV behind us, operated by Yuri back in the garage.

Yuri fired it immediately, aiming at the building in front of us, firing off grenades in the process. The men positioned on the building had no chance, this thing was built to kill and destroy.

We heard someone yell behind us. It was Nikolai, supporting Soap as they staggered as fast as they could toward us. "Price, Soap's not looking good, we've gotta get him on the chopper."

Soap was awake, but he was fading fast. God, that guy was tough. He looked incredibly pale, and was sweating heavily. He was most likely dehydrated, had low blood sugar, and was weak from just plain blood loss. I would later laugh at the memory that through it all, his small mohawk still kept it's shape.

We were on grass now, and I helped Nikolai support Soap as Price took point. Yuri was providing most of the firepower, the bullets actually tearing into the buildings in front of us.

Past the buildings was a large path that took us to a wide metal ground section. Trucks, piping, and debris littered the area, but we saw the chopper there. But the area was overrun with soldiers and enemy attack choppers.

Yuri took care of the choppers first, sending them spinning off the mountainside. We hopped over the ledge, carrying Soap now, and sprinted to the chopper and heaved Soap inside. We were almost safe.

"Yuri, we're in! Finish them off and get back to the chopper!" Price yelled into his earpiece.

"He's not looking good…" Nikolai added, and Soap groaned again.

"On it. The choppers tore this thing up. It's dying. I'm on my way!" he responded.

"Drone, inbound!" Price screamed. It landed right on the UGV, blowing it to pieces. There were still enemy helicopters in the air, but Yuri had to get to our chopper…

"Nikolai, take flight, we'll pick up Yuri once we see him!"

We took off, hovering low above the ground. Just in time to see the predator missile strike.

"LOOK OUT!" Price screamed.

The entire area flew into pieces, sending debris and destroyed vehicles sliding down the mountainside, taking Yuri along with it. The helicopter jerked, but Nikolai managed to keep it under control. He flew the chopper up higher, trying to see if we could spot Yuri. There was so much debris racing down the hill, it was impossible to tell where he was.

"YURI!" I screamed. I whirled around to Price, who was keeping hold on Soap. "We've got to find him! He can't be dead! Nikolai, get down there!"

Price looked at me oddly, probably a bit confused why I suddenly cared so much about Yuri's life.

Well, he saved mine. And I hadn't gotten a chance to thank him.

Nikolai flew the chopper over the mountainside to where a river cut into the valley. Flying down lower, we spotted a soaking wet Yuri, struggling to stand on the slippery rocks.

"There he is! There's Yuri!" Nikolai yelled. He flew the chopper down.

Price nodded, staring out of the chopper grimly. "Good. We're going to need him. We're going after Makarov."

Soap squinted. "Who the bloody hell's Yuri?" he mumbled. Price and I looked at him, then back at each other. At that moment, I think we forgot how serious the situation was that we were in, despite that fact that everyone was still alive. We burst into laughter, and continued to laugh even when Yuri climbed onto the chopper, wet, irritated, but alive. It took us a good five minutes to finally stop.

Once we had managed to catch our breath, Price got serious again. We got some water into Soap, and fed him bits of bread and cheese, slowly. The color slowly returned to his cheeks, but he was still weak from blood loss. But he could talk clearly now, and seemed to be healing okay. Yuri was pretty bruised up, but after examining him, I didn't find anything serious, aside from multiple bruises. He even escaped without a concussion.

He got lucky…that slide down the mountain could have given him some serious injuries.

Once we were high in the air, Price grabbed a laptop and bean typing furiously on it. The three of us watched over his shoulder as information windows popped up on the screen. Price typed something into the information bar.

KINGFISH IS STILL IN PLAY. $ OUT.

Soap grinned widely. "We still got this, old man. Just like before."

I looked over to him. "What's "KINGFISH?"

Soap chuckled. "In simple terms, it's the code name for 'We're going to kick Makarov's ass.'

I liked the sound of that, and in Soap's cheerful Scottish accent, it sounded even better.

"Sounds good." I told them. "Am I in?"

The three men looked at each other.

"I vote yes." Soap said, taking a bite of bread. "This girl saved my life, and she seems tough enough."

Price looked at Yuri. Yuri nodded. "She proved herself well. I'd say let her in permanently."

Price looked at me. "You did well, Levark. Really bloody well. Welcome to the team."

I bowed my head. I felt like I was…at home, almost. I mean yeah, I was going to be battling for my life on a daily basis. I might not even make it through Operation Kingfish alive. But hey, what did I have back at home? No parents, no siblings, no family.

"Yuri…" I began, not sure where to start. "Yuri, thank you…for what you did back there. You saved my life, when you really should have just saved yourself. And…I appreciate that. Thank you."

He gave me a small smile. "I look out for my brothers and sisters."

I smiled. I had a feeling that I was about to immerse myself in an equivalent of hell, but you know what?

I was pretty damn sure it was going to be worth it.


	4. His First Move

**A/N: So sorry for the long update. I don't have my own laptop, and both my parents use this computer, so it's hard to update quickly! But thanks for the reviews and favorites, onto chapter 4!**

Chapter 4: His First Move

"_The Russian President never arrived in Hamburg last night for the peace conference, and his whereabouts are currently unknown. No one is certain what this means for the possible peace treaties, as the search begins for the missing president..."_  
We huddled around Price's laptop, listening grimly to the latest news on the chopper. Soap, who was recovering well, grimaced.

"Looks like we're not the only ones getting back on our feet. That right there has Makarov written all over it," he said gravely.

"But if he's making himself known," Price began, "He's doing it on purpose. He's putting himself back on the grid for a reason."  
I frowned. "So where do we start hunting then?" I asked.

Yuri laid out a map, motioning for us all to look. "Africa."

He pointed to the continent of Africa on the map. "Makarov's been using a paramilitary group to movie shipments into Sierra Leone, then to Morocco, then up into Spain."

"He's moving north then..." Soap murmured.

"Wait, it looks like he's moving towards Great Britain..." I added, studying the map where Yuri was drawing Makarov's path.

"Exactly." Yuri confirmed.

"But what's the cargo?"

Yuri shook his head. "I don't know, but it's important to him."

"I want it then." Price growled. "Whatever the hell it is, he's not going to get it."

"There's a factory camp where they store the shipments." Soap pointed out. "We can use the

river along there to get in close. The militia will be everywhere, so we'll have to lay low."

"And chances are," Price continued. "The bastard will be there personally to see things off. If he's putting himself back on the grid, then so are we."

So it was confirmed. Price told Nikolai and the co-pilot of the plans, and we'd be heading into Sierra Leone in about a week. I was a bit nervous...would we get a shot at Makarov in a week from now? I didn't know.

Price continued to drill me on different techniques and points. One of the big things we went over was the proper way to stab someone in the throat. I didn't know there was a correct way to do it, but apparently there was. He showed me the spot to thrust the knife, and had me practice on him with a dulled knife. He then gave me one of his older knives to keep on my belt.

"Now listen up." Price said quickly. "We're going into Africa, which means it's going to be bloody _hot. Very _hot. I don't want any of you dying from dehydration."

I grimaced. That didn't sound promising. Price pulled out several bottles of water.  
"You see this? It's water. Drink a _lot_ of it, because hydration will save your life out there. Especially when we get to be one or two days away."

During the next week, I was relieved to see that Soap was recovering fine, despite my hastily applied stitches. He was taking anti-biotics to prevent infection, and they seemed to be working alright. He'd live, for now anyway.

Soap gave me a pair of gloves that he said I could keep. They were a little battered, but fit me just fine.

"These will prevent the worst of any possible blisters, although I can't guarantee you won't get some from time to time. Take it as a thank-you for saving my life back there."

I thanked him, grateful for something to protect my hands.

The night before we were due to land, I couldn't sleep. Neither could Price, although Yuri and Soap were already out. I walked quietly over to him as he listened to further news reports on his laptop.

"We got back New York, Levark. The Delta Force took back New York from the Russian invasion that killed your parents." Price said quietly.

I nodded grimly. "Oh. Right...that's um, good."

"Those are good men..." Price continued. "Their captain, Sandman, is a good friend of mine. They've received word on the missing Russian President, and are going to go after him soon. Makarov's men have his daughter too."

I bit my lip. "Well what exactly does he want from the President?"  
Price shook his head. "It could be anything. I know that they got his daughter to use against him."

"And how does Yuri know so much about Makarov?"

"He works for Nikolai's Loyalist men, they have all kinds of intel on Makarov's movements. That's probably why, although he really seems to know his stuff. He has his own reasons for wanting Makarov dead, just like we all do."

It was true. I didn't know Price's reasoning, but I sure as hell knew mine.  
I fell asleep pretty quickly that night, my dreams strange and confusing,  
Hours later, someone was shaking me gently. I opened my eyes groggily. It was Yuri.

"It's time to go. Get suited up."

I stumbled to my feet, still half-awake. Price tossed me a uniform to put on, and let me use the tiny bathroom to change while the men waited in the chopper. That was one awkward situation I was glad I was able to avoid.

The uniform was composed of black boots, and camouflage long pants and shirt. I pulled on the gloves Soap had given me, and quickly threw my hair back without a mirror, since it was just long enough to put up.

Price went over the plan with us again. There was a factory where the cargo was being shipped to, but we'd have heavy lines to push through. We had to be as quiet as possible to try and attract as little attention as we could. And, he reminded us, it was going to be _hot._

The chopper landed, and I quickly took my inhaler before I stepped off, just in case. I really wasn't in the mood to have an asthma attack in the heat we'd be facing soon.

We stepped off the chopper, and ducked quickly into a river. Price was right, the heat was almost suffocating. We crouched down in the shallow, warm water as the chopper took off.

We traveled slowly through the water, following Price with our guns held high. I had an AK-47 and a sniper rifle whose name I already forgot. We were surrounded by a jungle, and all around us I could hear birds and bugs buzzing around in the trees. In my belt, I had a knife that I was praying I wouldn't have to use.

Ten minutes later, we stopped and Price spoke into his earpiece.

"Nikolai, we're just outside the village."

"Copy," he responded. "I'll pick you up in one hour."

Price turned to the three of us.

"The factory isn't far from here. Keep it silent, and don't attract attention to yourself. Let's move."  
We nodded, and followed him out of the river, onto a small path.

"And Soap, try not to die this time." Price added dryly.  
I stifled a giggle, and Soap rolled his eyes. "You worry about yourself old man."

The roar of a vehicle sounded about forty meters away, and Price motioned for us to get down. One man approached our hiding spot.

With the grace and speed I didn't know a man of Soap's size could possibly have, Soap lunged forward and killed the man quickly with his knife, tossing his body into the brush where it wouldn't be seen.

"Good work. Move up." Price instructed us.

Debris littered the area as we approached the outskirts of the village. The heat was like a thick blanket, but I tried not to let it hinder me.

We crouched behind the tall grass, spotting two more men outside of a broken-down cottage.  
"Yuri, take them out." Price instructed.

Yuri raised his sniper, aiming carefully. Two seconds later, the men laid dead.

"Move up."

We hurried in and out of the tiny cottage, entering the village. We crouched behind a destroyed car, ten more men standing about thirty meters away.

"Open fire on my word." Price said quietly. "Ready...GO!"  
We stood up and opened fire. I crouched behind the car to re-load as bullets whizzed past the car. There was one guy left, half-dead, laying on the ground. Price finished him with a bullet to the head from his pistol.

I grimaced at the dead bodies laying on the ground. I wondered if the others ever thought that was a little unnerving. I shook it off, and followed the men further up into the village.  
We hurried across the dirt ground, spotting a cluster of men standing together, and more about 50 meters away.

"There's too many of them." Soap murmured. "We'll have to go around them."

We hurried off the dirt road, and ducked into the brush behind a long white fence.  
"Get down!" Price hissed as a vehicle whizzed past us. I barely breathed, as two more men walked down the road, machine guns in their hands.

"Alright. Move." he instructed. We crept up the road, as entered closer to the more populated part of the village.

Ahead, a bridge stood only about a meter high, with two armed men standing on top of it. We laid low, as Yuri pulled out his sniper again.

"Wait for the vehicle to pass...okay...take them out..._now._"

Yuri was an excellent sniper. He killed them from thirty meters away. We hurried over to where the bodies lay, and Soap helped Yuri drag them out of sight. Ducking underneath the bridge, we slipped between two small cottages that formed a narrow alley, serving as the entrance to the village. Price grabbed a guy that was walking past, and shoved him against the side of the alley, finishing him off quickly with a knife to the back of the neck.

As disgusting as it was to see the blood spray everywhere, the grace and speed at which Price performed the gruesome ta

sk was really something to admire. He didn't hesitate, and didn't think twice about it.  
Soap peered around the corner of the alleyway. "Damn..." he murmured. "This place is a bloody ghost town."

"Yeah, but not for long." Price said quickly. "Yuri, climb the ladder and take position on that rooftop, and cover us if anyone's coming. The factory is just around the corner and up the road. Levark, with us. Let's go."

We behind one of the houses, a trail of dust following us on the dirt ground. We froze as voices approached our location. The sound of bullets whizzing through the air silenced them both.

I followed Soap and Price further up the road, where the factory stood tall. Price kicked down the doors, and we hurried inside, guns raised.  
Nothing. No people, no cargo. It was a large, empty room that had been abandoned long ago.

Price spoke into his earpiece.  
"Nikolai, we've reached a dead end. Nothing here, and no sign of Makarov."  
"He must have moved to the militia's headquarters in the center of town." Nikolai responded.  
Price scowled. "Alright, moving there now."

"Wait, Price..." I began as him and Soap began to move out of the building. "This could be a trap, what if Makarov knows we're coming?"  
He grimaced. "Doesn't matter. I want that cargo, we need to-"  
He was interrupted by shouts and gunfire. A _lot _of shouts that belonged to a _lot_ of men.  
Soap swore and shouted quickly into his earpiece.

"Yuri, get down here, we've been compromised!"

I was standing closest to the door when the man ran in with his knife raised high. I lunged at him, grabbing him around the neck and kneeing him in the place where it hurts, just like my dad showed me when I was younger.Price finished him off with a bullet to the head.

"Good work, move out!" Price shouted.

We sprinted out the door, taking cover behind destroyed cars.

The militia were not exceedingly well-trained, but it still wasn't super easy to push through their lines. Yuri, crawling furiously on his stomach, joined us a minute later, breathing heavily. The suffocating heat was taking its toll on all of us, even I was feeling a bit woozy in the beating sun as I helped the best I could.

"Move up!" Soap shouted. We hurried up the street as more men flooded in, ducking in and out of doorways and behind cars, attempting to stay out of bullet range. I was really feeling the effects of the heat now, my breathing growing more and more labored. We dove behind a house, shouts and gunfire ringing around us. Price was swearing underneath his breath.

"We've gotta get to the church, that's where the cargo's at!" he shouted.  
"Are we even close to the church?" I asked, grimacing as a car exploded about fifteen meters away.

"We're close, but not quite close enough. We can't fight all these guys off at once. We gotta get around them somehow..."

"What about the rooftops?" Yuri asked.  
"That's a sure way to get us killed, unless we move really damn fast..." Soap growled.  
"Then let's move really damn fast!" I exclaimed angrily. A decision had to be made-now.  
They looked at me.

"Let's do it." Price agreed gruffly. "Let's move, come on!"

We sprinted towards the line of buildings, scaling the ladder that allowed us to reach the rooftops. Bullets darted around us, but Price didn't let us stop. Suddenly, the roof gave way underneath Yuri's feet, sending him and me plummeting to the ground. I hit the dirt floor hard, landing on my stomach. I groaned, feeling dizzy. Everywhere hurt, and I couldn't seem to feel my legs. Next to me, Yuri coughed and pulled himself up.

"Yuri! Levark! Are you guys alright?" Price shouted into our earpieces.

"We're fine!" I shouted back. "Keep moving!"

Yuri helped me to my feet, and we ran through the underpass, hearing nothing but gunfire, shouting, and Price and Soap running above us. The only thing keeping me moving was Yuri running ahead of me. The heat seemed to be draining the life out of me, and I felt dizzy.

"The church is up ahead. We're going to have to breach it. Keep moving!"

Yuri and I made a mad dash for the exit of the underpass. The ground shook with explosions as Nikolai gave us support from above.

Price and Soap were pressed against the wall of the church, firing in all directions. Yuri and I dropped to the ground, going prone. When we reached the church, Soap and Yuri put a medium-sized square object on the door.

"Get against the wall!" Soap yelled. We pressed ourselves on either side of the door, and Soap detonated the bomb, blowing open the door. We rushed into the church. It was empty.  
We ran through the church and out the opposite door, just in time to see a helicopter fly away, carrying something large below it. Price swore angrily.

"Dammit!" he growled. "Nikolai, it's gone. The cargo. We were too late."  
"Any sign of Makarov?" Nikolai responded.  
"Negative. Just come pick us up."

I suddenly felt really weak. I swayed, suddenly unable to see right. Everything was spinning, and I felt violently sick to my stomach. I felt my knees buckle, and someone catch me just before I hit the ground and blacked out.


	5. To Hell With Sanity

**A/N: This is a shorter chapter, but I hope it's at least interesting. I'll do a couple like this, one's that are from the perspective of Price instead of Petral. Thanks to my lovely reviewers, and to all who have favorited and subscribed!**

Chapter 5: To Hell With Sanity (POV of Captain John Price)

I lit another cigar, inhaling deeply. I closed my eyes, trying to just think. I was about ready to punch MacTavish in the nose, he kept _talking._ I couldn't really call him "the FNG" anymore. We were long past that, but I still couldn't help but see him as the boy I trained up at the base with Gaz, however long ago that was. I honestly didn't know, and didn't feel like thinking about it.

Nah, he wasn't a boy anymore. Soap was a man now, who had saved my ass on God knows how many occasions. I just wished he'd shut up right now.

"...I'm just bloody furious that the bastard escaped again, and I don't know if we're ever going to-"

"I know. I heard you." I mumbled without opening my eyes. I was livid that Makarov escaped, actually. I wasn't in the mood to be reminded.

"What about the girl? Is she gonna be alright?"

I sighed, irritated. "She'll be _fine._ Just wait for her to wake up, and if she doesn't wake up in a few hours, then we can worry."

"You're the one who glanced over at her forty seven times in the last hour," he said defensively.

I opened my eyes to glare at him. "Well, look who's counting."

Yuri looked up from his map. I'd never admit it, but I was relieved we had Yuri on our team. He was an excellent addition...even though there wasn't really a team anymore. I bowed my head slightly for a moment, remembering Roach, Gaz, Ghost, Archer...All good men who died by by the hand of enemies who didn't give it a second thought. Evil, vile bastards who deserve to be left to the buzzards. Shepard, Zakhaev, _Makarov..._

But of course, Zakhaev and Shepard were already laying in their graves.

_If those bastards aren't rotting in hell, I'll die right now just to personally escort them there._

"Her breathing is normal." Yuri said calmly, interrupting my infuriated thoughts. "Let her wake on her own."

I sighed. Sometimes I honestly thought I was getting too old for this.

"Any update on Delta's progress?" Soap asked, changing the subject.

I frowned. Probably should check up on that.

I carefully stepped around Levark to retrieve my laptop. I sat down next to Soap, and opened it up, looking for any updates on the Delta Force's progress. I scowled. Sandman hadn't posted anything yet.

"Nothing yet. That kid knows he worries me when he doesn't put up any updates..."

"Could be a security threat." Soap murmured. "I'd doubt anything happened to the lad, or his men, but Makarov does seem to be able to hack into whatever the bloody hell he wants to nowadays..."

I gritted my teeth. Soap was probably right, but I still worried. I glanced over at Levark. She was still out cold, breathing lightly but evenly.

"That's forty-eight." Soap said, looking like a smug seven-year old.

I scowled at him. "Shut the hell up, Soap. You're one to talk, seeing as you got a bloody knife in your chest."

"And you're one to talk, seeing that I saved your ass from both Zakhaev and Shepard."

I couldn't help it. I cracked a small smile. "Guess I really can't call you 'son' anymore, can I?"

Soap laughed. "We'll see, old man."

Yuri chuckled from behind us. "I would have to think that it would take the devil himself to separate you two."

A soft moan came from the girl, who was beginning to stir. We whirled around as she began to sit up, her face screwed up into a grimace.

"Levark." I said firmly, kneeling beside her. "Levark, are you alright?"

Her eyes flew open. With reflexive speed, she whipped the knife out of her belt, swinging it towards my shoulder. I grabbed her hand and slammed it against the ground, wrestling her for the knife as Yuri and Soap tried to restrain her. She snarled and screamed like a wild animal, half out of her mind.

"_Levark! It's me, snap out of it!" _I shouted at her. Her eyes softened as she stopped struggling, looking from me, to Soap, to Yuri.

"Oh...God...I-I thought you...I didn't-" she sputtered, looking horrified with herself.

"Just lay down." I instructed, grimacing a bit. "Goddamn, you're stronger than I give you credit for..."

She tried to stand up. "No, I'm _fine_, I just-"

"Just sit _down. _God, you're so stubborn sometimes." Soap murmured, pushing her back down.

She pushed his hand aside, glaring at him. "I'm _fine."_

She stood up, staggering and nearly toppling over. I gently forced her to sit back down.

"No, you're not."

I gave her a bottle of water. "Drink that _slowly_, or you're just going to throw it back up again."

She nodded, taking a small sip. She was very pale, but looked like she was about to bite someone's head off. I think she was angry-angry at herself, and angry that she had fainted.

"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you until-"

"We know. No one's dead or wounded, so no harm done. Now drink."

She scowled as she drank, small sips at a time.

"It was the heat. You overheated, and I think you were dehydrated too. You need to rest before our next mission."

"What about the cargo?" she asked.

I frowned. "We didn't get it. Makarov got away...but the United Kingdom SAS troops are on it. I've received word that they are going to try and intercept it, but so far no promises. We don't even know what the shipments contain yet."

I quickly opened my laptop, checking again for any updates on Delta's progress.

"Delta has secured the Vice President." I announced. "I knew those men could do it."

"Any casualties on their end?" Soap asked.

"None as far as I know. Sandman hasn't reported any."

Petral looked up. "What about President Vorshevsky?"

"No updates yet, on him or his daughter. That's a big project to tackle."

I sighed. That was a very big project to tackle...

"So what's on the radar for us?" Yuri asked.

I frowned. "I need to contact Baseplate, but he's got a lot of shit down his way, with the SAS troops trying to intercept that cargo we lost at Sierra Leone. I'm going to give him a few days, and then we'll be back on our feet again."

They all seemed to agree to that.

_Don't think you've got me now, Makarov, you know me better than that._

I glanced over at Petral. As usual, her face was blank, yet determined. Almost completely unreadable, aside from her widened eyes set with determination. I think even if the girl lost an arm, she'd still want to keep fighting.

She wasn't bad on looks either. Bright green eyes, angled face, this girl was a real looker. Tall, too. I wondered if she had a husband back at home. Probably.

I saw a familiar look on Soap's face, the look that was him trying as hard as he could not to crack a smile. I glared at him.

_What?_

He just shook his head. I was going to punch the idiot in the face.

I couldn't sleep that night. Soap and Yuri were snoring softly, but memories were knifing back into my head like a bullet. I couldn't stop them once they came flooding to the front of my mind.

_Shepard stabbing Soap. Watching Gaz and Griggs die as I lay helpless. All those men. Roach and Ghost. All dead. All __**dead**__ because __**you **__couldn't save them. The airport massacre. The innocent people-_

_**IT WASN'T MY FAULT! **_

I ground my teeth together, gripping my head tightly. The God-awful memories were like acid, flooding me with guilt and remorse. I couldn't do this, _I couldn't do this-_

"Price...John?"

I looked up, my eyes blurry. I realized it was from tears. Petral was kneeling beside me, a look of concern on her face. It was dark in the chopper, but her pale skin looked almost translucent in the dim light.

"Are you okay? Do you have a migraine?"

_Something like that._

"No...I'm fine."

"Sure you are. Because all men clutch their head in apparent agony, while gritting their teeth together and trying not to scream."

"Shut it, Levark..."

"Then stop lying like a five year old. You're not fine. _What's wrong?"_

_Damn...this girl really doesn't mess around._

"Memories." I answered gruffly.

She bit her lip. "Oh..."

"Yeah. Men dying, young, brave boys getting shot down like deer. Traitors and dictators. Blood. It isn't pleasant. And when you're my age, it's a lot of shit that your head likes to keep stored."

She was quiet for a moment. "Do you have...family back at home?" she asked cautiously.

I shook my head. "No. It's just me."

She grimaced. "Oh...I-I'm sorry-"

"I get asked that a lot." I added dryly.

"What, by other women?" she giggled, half-jokingly. "I'm sure all the women want to know if you're married or not, Price."

She laughed quietly. I snickered.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. What, has Soap tried to flirt with you yet?"

"He did when he was still injured, remember?" she said teasingly.

"That doesn't count. He was half-conscious."

"What, so a man has to be half-conscious to find me attractive?"

My eyes widened. "What? No-I-I didn't mean that, I meant-No, I just- Oh, shut the hell up..."

I cursed myself for getting tongue tied like an idiot. She just laughed harder.

"You've got any kids, Levark?" I shut my eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

She stopped laughing and shook her head. "No. No husband. I don't really want to get married anyway, I don't want to feel tied down..."

Her voice trailed off, her face set in a grimace.

I raised my eyebrows. Independent, a bit of a smartass, and a good soldier. I was beginning to like this girl.

"I guess I'll keep that in mind then." I laughed.

She rolled her eyes. "You need some sleep, old man."

"Yeah. I do. Thanks for letting me clear my head a bit, I needed that..." I

She smiled. "Yeah. No problem."

She walked over to her corner of the chopper, and laid down. I closed my eyes. The memories were there, but not longer running across the front of my mind. I sighed and fell asleep quickly into a dreamless sleep.


	6. Interrogation

Chapter Six: Interrogation

The next few days on the chopper were uneventful, aside from Price continuing to drill me on different techniques and attacks. He was pleased with my reflexive skills, ("You nearly stabbed me in the face with that bloody knife," he commented dryly.) and seemed content with my strength so far.

The next morning, the three men sat around the laptop, Price looking angry.

"I can't get through to Mac...damn it..." he growled. I sat down next to him, as clicked around the settings of the video camera on the laptop.

"Yuri, can you get through to his comms? This is bloody irritating..."

Yuri took the laptop, concentrating intently on the screen as he began to type.

"What are we doing?" I asked, confused.

"Trying to get through to the intel of the United Kingdom Special Forces, Captain "Baseplate" MacMillan" Soap explained. "He might have information as to where this cargo came from, and if we've got a name we can work with. This man is an old friend of Price's."

"Okay...if we do get a name, what do we do then?" I asked.

"We go _find_ that name. Ask him a few questions. Do whatever it takes to get info. Then we go from there." he concluded, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world. I frowned.

Yuri's face lit up. "I got it. We're through to him, we should be able to talk now..."

Static sounded across the screen at first, then came a voice. We couldn't see the owner of the voice, but the sound came in clear enough to understand.

"Hello? Identify yourself."

Price spoke first. "Mac. It's John."

Baseplate sighed. "We put a lot of names in the clocktower this week lad. A lot of good men died this past week."

"I know. It was Makarov, the bastard slipped through my fingers in Sierra Leone. What does MI6 know so far?"

Baseplate sighed again. "You're on everyone's shit-list John, I can't get you clearance-"

"Don't give me that!" Price snapped. "You still owe me for back at Pripyat, in case you've forgotten. I'm calling it in."

"Alright, easy son." Baseplate said, exasperated. He paused for a moment.

"Alright, we've traced the freighter to a tiny base in Bossaso, Somalia. It's run by a nasty piece of work named Waarabe. He's gonna have the information you're looking for. My hands are full with the hell going on at home, so you're on your own for this one."

Price looked relieved. "Alright. I've got a new recruit, might make this job a bit easier."

Baseplate chuckled. "Well good luck with that. FNG's are always interesting to work with. God knows you were..."

Price chuckled. "Don't forget who carried you across that goddamn city."

"Don't think I ever could. Well, good luck to you son." Baseplate said. "Out."

Price disconnected from Baseplate, static sounding again through the microphone. I frowned, wondering what 'FNG' meant. It was funny to think of Price answering to somebody, not being the strong, iron-willed captain that told us what to do. Baseplate had obviously been in charge of Price at one point in time. I wondered what he meant by him being 'interesting'.

"Bossaso, Somalia." Soap mused, standing up. "What's the security look like over there?"

"Strictly second-division." Price said, shutting the laptop. "Local triggermen guard the area, we won't be dealing with anyone who has more than a few months experience over there."

"But we'll stand out like a sore thumb." I pointed out.

Yuri laughed without humor. "Looks like we'll just have to come right in the front door."

"I'll tell Nikolai to ready his troops. We're going after Waarabe."

I could see the look of hope on his face, the determination that said he'd go under the Atlantic Ocean if that's what it took to find Waarabe. I didn't blame him.

As usual, Price made our next mission sound incredibly simple. Find and interrogate Waarabe. Easy, right?

Nikolai came into the seating area with us, his co-pilot taking over the plane. "My men will be ready to go. Are you sure that this Waarabe will have the information you need?"

"He will." Price said quietly. The way he said it made me uneasy...almost as if, even if Waarabe _didn't, _Price would get something out of him, if it meant cutting his arms off. I shuddered a bit, because I was fully aware that Price was capable of doing just that.

I swallowed. "Are we going to bring him on the chopper?" I asked.

Soap shook his head. "The interrogation won't take very long."

Something chilled me about the way they were both so sure how this was going to work out. I was no idiot, I knew what means of..._interrogation_ they were going to use on this Waarabe, but I wasn't particularly looking forward to witnessing it.

But I knew this was just part of the way life went around here.

Bosasso was very much like Sierra Leone-hot and very dusty_. _We landed in the chopper and jumped out. I immediately heard shouts in a language I couldn't identify.

"Get into that car!" Soap yelled, and we sprinted after him to the small car that was sitting idle about 20 yards away.

"That belongs to the Loyalists, the keys should be in the car. Get in!"

Yuri and I jumped into the back seat as the sound of gunfire grew closer. Price jammed the keys into the ignition, and the car roared to life.

"Open fire!" Soap shouted.

Yuri stood up and fired off his gun, the car speeding along the dirt road. I ducked down as bullets whizzed past the car, crouching low and aiming my gun as steadily as I could.

"Levark, help out Yuri but don't do anything stupid!"

I ground my teeth together and fired my gun. Two men dropped as the car picked up speed.

"Nikolai, we need air support _now!_" Price shouted into the earpiece. Nikolai's chopper hovered low above the ground, firing at the oncoming soldiers.

Price jammed on the brakes, sending the car to a skidding stop. We hurried out of the car, ducking behind a low-lying wall. Below us was an old parking lot, soldiers ducking behind cars and firing off machine guns.

"Take 'em out as quickly as possible!" Soap yelled over the roar. I took out three men down below, and Soap took out six more. The Loyalists were providing support to the right, further down the street.

"Waarabe is just down this road. Follow me, and don't fall behind! Let's move!"

The three of us ran after Price around a building, and down an alleyway. Helicopters screamed across the sky, and the bodies of dead civilians laid in the streets. Women laying on top of their children that they had tried to protect. It was a sickening sight that enraged me. I wanted to find Waarabe more than ever.

_This is hell. This is exactly what war is-hell._

"Nikolai, can your men hold out until we're finished with Waarabe?" Price said into his earpiece.

"Da," he responded immediately, "But hurry. The hostiles numbers may be too much for my men if we keep this up. Do what you need to do quickly."

We stopped behind a car that had its windows broken. The street was eerily quiet, completely deserted aside from a stray dog. We heard the sounds of fighting from behind us, but the street itself was empty.

"Move up." Price instructed, as we ran between two deserted houses. Price approached a larger one on the left, crouching beside the door that was opened by a crack. I faintly heard murmurs and conversation in Russian coming from inside as we crouched next to the door where we wouldn't be seen from anyone on the inside.

"I think this is it." he said quietly. "Yuri, listen and translate what's going on inside."

Yuri leaned towards the door.

"The one man is saying that...the fighting is getting too serious...and that...they need to evacuate quickly...before someone finds them...and...the other man said he can secure a route...by tomorrow...and one man is addressing someone...named Waarabe. This is it."

"Okay. On my count, we run through the door and open fire. You've seen what Waarabe looks like. Do not shoot him. Got it?"

We nodded.

"On my word. Ready...GO!"

Price kicked open the door and as we rushed inside, opening fire. The soldiers, taken by surprise, fell quickly. In the middle of the room, a terrified looking man I assumed was Waarabe was crouched on the ground, shaking.

"Gas masks on." Price instructed. I fumbled for my gas mask on my belt, and put it on quickly as Soap and Yuri did the same. Waarabe tried to stand, but Price knocked him back to the ground with a swift kick.

Waarabe looked horrified at the sight of Price.

"P-please, don't-"

"Shut up! You know what this is." Price took out a small canister from his belt and opened it, throwing it in the far corner of the room. Immediately, a foul, greenish gas slowly started leaking from the canister and into the room. I looked at him anxiously.

Price pulled out another mask. "Where's Makarov? Tell me, and It's yours." Price said calmly, holding the mask just out of Waarabe's reach.

"We never got anything directly from Makarov!" Waarabe cried, his voice shaking. "We-we never even consulted with him!"

He tried to get to his feet, but Soap kicked him back down angrily.

"Then WHO?" Price demanded angrily. The gas was slowly filling up the room. "Time's running out, mate. Give us a name."

"Our contact's name was Volk! Please, just let me go!" he literally begged, whimpering and shaking like a terrified boy. I looked from Price to Waarabe, a bit discomforted. I had been expecting a worse form of interrogation than this, but I wasn't expecting Waarabe to be literally pleading for his life...

"Where is this Volk?" he growled.

"Paris! He oversaw the delivery in Paris!" Waarabe cried desperately, making a useless grab for the mask.

Price nodded. "Good. This is for the boys at Hereford."

Price tossed Waarabe the mask as the gas filled up the room. Waarabe fumbled for it, but before he could reach it, Price shot him in the head, killing him instantly.

"We've got what we need to know. Let's go."

I gaped at Price. I was completely astounded by how he pulled it off, keeping so calm and unbothered. I didn't know what to think of what I had just seen, or how to feel..on one hand, I was a bit unnerved how easily Price seemed so unbothered. But it was fascinating. I've never met anyone who was quite so devoid, yet full of emotion at the same time like he was.

I found myself staring at him, my pulse quickening. I barely noticed Yuri looking at me oddly.

"Get behind here!" Price shouted, catching my eyes on him. He looked at me coldly, and I looked away, my cheeks flushing.

We ran out of the house and ducked behind a dumpster as gunfire echoed across the city.

"Nikolai, we got what we need. Come and pick us up."

"We are under heavy fire. I need to provide support for my troops further downwest. Can you come to us?"

Price swore under his breath, but agreed. "Yeah. We'll be right there."

He disconnected and turned to Yuri. "Yuri, can you use a sniper to cover us? There's men down the street with sniper rifles on the rooftops."

Yuri grabbed his sniper rifle out of his backpack. "Yes." he said confidently.

"Good. Keep your eyes on the rooftops."

Men came running up the street, shouting and taking cover behind fallen cars and alleys.

"_Open fire!" _Price shouted. Soap and I crouching behind a corner, fired into the street as more men ran into our area. Soap hurled a grenade, and it exploded with an ear-shattering _bang!_ I heard Yuri yell, and trip over a curb, clutching his arm. A bullet had grazed his arm, and was bleeding badly.

"Oh, _shit._' I hissed to myself, glancing over at him. I had nothing to bandage it with, and blood was running down his arm.

I hurried over to where he was half-standing, and, I assumed, was swearing colorfully in Russian.

"Keep pressure on that." I instructed him, pulling him further behind the building. "I don't have anything to bandage that with, so you'll have to keep it from bleeding yourself."

"I can't, I have to hold a gun-"

"Yuri, you'll faint otherwise! And what good will that do us?" I said angrily, as Soap hurried over to us.

"Are you sure Nikolai can't come to us?" I asked quickly. Soap frowned.

"He's going to have to now. We can't face all of those men with Yuri injured like that."

He contacted Nikolai. "Nikolai, you need to come to us. Yuri's hurt badly, and we're getting pinned down out here!"

Nikolai responded immediately. "Da, I will be there when I can. Do you still require my men's assistance otherwise?"

"No. Come pick us up and pull out of the city. We're getting the hell out of here."

I helped Yuri to his feet, who was obviously in a lot of pain. He gritted his teeth, clutching his arm tightly.

"You're going to be alright. Just _keep pressure on that. _" I told him sternly, raising my voice as the gunfire grew louder. We flattened ourselves against the wall, and I hurried over to Price.

"We need to go around the building, away from the hostiles!" he shouted. "Soap, you cover Yuri. Watch our backs. Levark, help me fend them off from the front. Don't turn your back to this street, got it?"

We all nodded. We rushed around the corner, out of sight from the line of men. We were walking backwards, guns aimed at the corner as Soap kept eye behind us. 20 seconds passed. Two men came running around the corner, dropping like flies as Price and I fired.

_Nikolai, where are you?_

Three more came around the corner, but didn't stand a chance.

Relief flooded through me as the familiar sound of our chopper sounded above our heads. More men were coming down both sides of the street. The four of us dove behind a car, shooting from all directions as Nikolai's chopper descended onto the street. We made a mad dash for it, reaching it just as over thirty men filled the area. We took off, leaving the city behind us.

I was able to relax once I disinfected and bandaged Yuri's arm. It would heal soon enough, and the pain was already beginning to lessen, or at least, so he told me. He thanked me gratefully.

We were all exhausted, and Soap and Yuri fell asleep early that night. Price contacted Metal-04, also known as the Delta Force, and told them of the mysterious Volk that we had forced out of Waarabe.

I was so tired, but I couldn't sleep at all that night. Price was still up on his laptop. I quietly stepped around Soap and Yuri and sat down next to him. He didn't seem to mind, nor even notice I was there.

"Can't sleep?" I asked. He snickered.

"No."

I nodded. I wanted to ask him about today, but I didn't know...how.

"I just want to know...does it ever..._bother _you?"

He looked at me. "Does what?"

"Killing someone who begs for their life."

He didn't answer. He quickly began typing on his laptop, clicking on a link that pulled up a video screen. He pushed the laptop onto my lap, and clicked play. The video screen looked like it was taken from a camera positioned high up somewhere, inside a building that I was almost certain was an airport. It was crowded, very full of people. I was confused. What was he showing me?

Ten seconds later, heavy gunfire, then screams erupted from the recording. People started running, then collapsing. In thirty seconds, it was silent, dead bodies lying across the floor. My hand flew to my mouth.

_Oh my God. Of course. The Airport Massacre._

Three men walked across the room, holding guns, and stepping over dead bodies. Price took the laptop from me and paused it. I just gaped at him, horrified.

"The man on the far right is Makarov. So does this answer your question? _It doesn't bother me._ It can't bother me, _ever._ Do you understand that?_"_

I nodded. I understood perfectly. _Of course._

I reached out for him. I wanted to comfort him. Somehow. But he turned away from me and into his corner of the chopper, shutting his laptop and laying down. I walked back to my sleeping area and laid down, staring at the wall of the chopper, curling into a tight ball.

I've never met anyone like Captain John Price. And I don't think I ever could...not ever.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! :D I've been super busy lately, but I'll try and keep the updates coming as quickly as I can.**


	7. Blood Brothers

Chapter 7: Blood Brothers

It was so hard..._waiting._

We were waiting and waiting for a reply from Metal 0-4, telling us that they had either failed their mission, or had accomplished it by capturing Volk.

They already had another situation on their hands. They had been trying to locate the captured president and his daughter for some time now, but to no avail.

But capturing Volk was a higher priority now.

Spending so much time without seeing any action really made me think. It slightly amused me to realize that I was becoming less and less sensitive to the gore and violence associated with war. I guess this happened within a short period of time to most soldiers.

And I was about to rip Yuri's face off for the odd stares he'd been giving me since Waarabe's interrogation. He was always so quiet, but I would catch him watching me as I wrote in my journal, or when I talked to Soap or Price.

Although, ever since Price showed me the video of the massacre, he hadn't spoken a word to me, unless he was talking to all of us.

When we had the time, Soap always insisted that I play cards with him. Usually it was bull, or poker, or some weird game he invented himself. Price never wanted to play, but we could occasionally get Yuri to join. I beat Soap once at poker, and I think he was ready to throw the cards out of the chopper.

But we literally had _nothing_to do as we waited for a news update on Volk.

It was nice to relax a little, although it was still unnerving for me to spend so much time in a small space with three and sometimes four men. Soap told me I was like the whore of the disavowed Task Force 141, and I actually slapped him across the face.

I've never seen Yuri laugh so hard as he did then, which just made me laugh. Pretty soon Soap joined us, and Price was looking at us like we'd finally lost it. We stopped after a minute or so, and Soap rubbed his cheek that was now turning red from where I'd slapped him. I think he knew he deserved it.

A week later, Price woke us up in the middle of the night, yelling that Sandman had contacted him with news updates on Volk. I bolted upright, and practically ran over to the laptop where Price and Sandman were talking via video screen.

"We got Volk to talk." Sandman said, sounding very tired.

"They always talk." Price murmured.

"You were right, Captain. We got names, dates, locations, even Fregata."

"Looks like Makarov's already making friends. What's the update?"

"Makarov is meeting with his top advisors six hours from now. Location, Hotel Lustig, in Prague. We've got our men sent out to deal with it, but I don't think they'll make it in time...But you're close."

"Very." Price concluded. "We'll be there by tomorrow. I'll contact you when it's done."

"Copy. Good luck to you, Captain."

Price disconnected from Sandman, looking very tired.

"Makarov meeting with his council in the middle of a war zone? Sounds convenient..." Yuri said, frowning. "It doesn't seem like him to just put himself at risk like that."

"Overconfidence makes you careless." Price told him. "The city will be entirely guarded, but I know a way we can get in. We'll be there-soon. Get ready and try to sleep for a few hours."

We all agreed. It was hard to believe that this was it-we were going to kill Makarov in just a few hours. But what would happen after that? Would there be a Task Force 141 anymore? I didn't want to go back to where ever I was supposed to call home after this. As hard, and sometimes horrible this life was, I felt like this was my new home. I think I felt that way ever since I joined the military as a doctor all those months ago. Even though this was equivalent to hell on earth, _this_ is where I belonged, and _this_was my life.

And I didn't have a life to go back to. I could always buy an apartment somewhere else, but I could never go back to New York. Ever.

Price was able to fall asleep quickly after notifying Nikolai of the plan. We'd only get a few hours, but it was better than nothing. But I couldn't sleep, and neither could Soap or Yuri.

I laid facing away from them, as they sat and began talking quietly amongst themselves, Price's quiet snores in the background.

"You're men will be able to assist us once we get into the city?" Soap asked Yuri quietly.

"Yes." Yuri said. "I just...don't like the plan. It seems too easy, too convenient for us."

"I know. But I've been worried about the old man lately. I feel like everything will be okay after this...after we kill Makarov."

Silence between them.

"And...the girl?" Yuri asked. I bit my lip at the turn of the conversation.

"She's finding her way better than I thought. She's very impressive, considering she's never been on the front lines before, much less in our Special Operations. Price is impressed."

"Price really seems to like her." Yuri murmured.

"Oh, the lad doesn't just like her. He's bloody in love with her."

I stiffened. _What?!_

Yuri chuckled quietly. "You think so?"

"I know he is." Soap chuckled. "Gaz and I, may God rest his brave soul, would tease Price a lot back in the old days. When I was just an FNG. Price _never_ showed any interest in women, not a single one. He heard us jokingly whisper about him being gay one time, and ah, let's just say we had to do a _lot_ of extra running that day...but I can see it on his face whenever he looks at her, or when she does something impressive. He _smiles_in this way I've never seen him smile before. But he'll never admit it. Not to himself, and no way in hell would he ever tell her. But the thing is, he likes people that impress him. And she definitely impresses him."

I laid there, listening in silence, unable to believe what I was hearing. Why the _hell_would they think that Price was in love with me?

_He likes people that impress him._

I really impressed him?

I haven't known him for that long, but I guess there was always something about Price that made me want to show everything that I could do to be a soldier. He had high expectations for his team, and I knew I would have to meet them to be...good.

And he was one of the most brilliant men I had ever met. Keeping his head, and staying strong through everything that we'd seen, and God knows what else before I met him. I guess I had wanted to impress him since I had met him back at the safehouse. Make him see that I was good.

And I had.

But that didn't mean he was in _love_with me.

My heart sank at the thought. I could still hear his quiet snores in the background, as Soap and Yuri crawled off to a corner of the chopper to try and get some sleep.

I didn't even want to bother trying to work out what I felt about him. I was too tired, and too confused. And this was not the time or place to be thinking about stuff like that. Caring was not an advantage in warfare, I had learned that quickly enough.

I just couldn't help but think where I'd be after we killed Makarov. I didn't want to think about it.

Hours later, we were ready to enter the city. There was a large tunnel that we were sitting in, waiting until it got a little lighter outside so that we could see where we were going. My eyes rested on Price who was smoking a cigar, staring across the large stream of water to the wall of the tunnel. It was raining heavily outside, and I could hear it pounding against the tunnel, thunder rumbling in the sky.

Price put out his cigar, and tossed it into the river. "Alright. Let's get this over with. Follow me."

We slipped into the river. I felt all my muscles contract against the cold, the water was _freezing_. Soap, Yuri and I kept low in the water, only letting the tops of our heads show. Men with dogs stood on the sides of the bank, and on the docs above us. The shouting and gunfire was muffled by the storm.

"They've got prisoners..." Price murmured into his earpiece. "The storm will give us cover. Keep your movement steady."

We slipped underneath the docs, the men above us totally oblivious to our presence. I anxiously glanced above me, but no one saw us.

I barely felt the rain through my heavy Military Uniform, and the water from the river made it cling to my skin. The dead bodies being thrown into the water did nothing to calm my nerves.

We entered a second tunnel once we were passed the docs.

"What took you so long?" hissed a shorter man, surrounded by others, standing on a ledge in the tunnel. He and his men helped us all out of the water, some of the men giving me odd looks.

"You're intel was off, Kamarov." Price growled. "You said the area would be clear."

"Why am I not surprised..." Soap muttered, quiet enough so only I heard. I gathered that while this Kamarov meant well, he had some rough history with Soap and Price.

"I'm sure it was nothing you couldn't handle. Do you know what I had to do to get you this far?" he demanded.

"Alright, enough chit-chat. Soap, take Yuri. Levark, with us. We'll meet you at the ready point."

Yuri gave us a nod of encouragement, and set off to follow Soap down another section of the tunnel. Kamarov had about three other men come with us, and told us there would be more waiting once we got into the city. Price told me the overview of the plan.

Soap and Yuri would go to the top of an office building that sat directly across from Hotel Lustig, where Makarov and his men planned to be. They'd provide sniper assistance from the building, while we went after Makarov. Kamarov's men would deal with the fighting on the ground.

"Just...be careful." he told me with an unexpected urgency. "The things he'd do to you if he captured you...you have no idea. He's sadistic. And he'll only torture you more to get to me. You understand that?"

I nodded. "I know that. And I won't let him capture me. Or you." I told him seriously.

"I can take care of myself." he growled.

"So can I."

We glared at each other in silence.

"Let's go you two!" Kamarov shouted at us from further down the tunnel. We broke our angry silence and ran to catch up with Kamarov and his men.

Kamarov talked quietly amongst his men in Russain, as Price and I walked ahead of the group.

"I don't think I caught your name, miss."

I turned around, a bit surprised.

"Petral. Petral Levark." I answered, glancing at Price.

Kamarov nodded. "Good to meet you. I didn't know Price was taking new recruits..."

"She was a bit of a surprise to us as well...but I think she's a definite keeper. Always good to have a doctor who can be a good soldier too."

I tried not to grin like an idiot at his comment, but I think I failed.

Kamarov smiled. "A doctor? Interesting..."

We reached an exit to the tunnel and quickly ducked inside an alleyway. We were inside the city now, but everyone here was a hostile. We had to lay low. Price gave me an AK-47.

"Kamarov, are any of your men snipers?"

"Yes. Alexander is."

"Right. I might need his help. Does he speak English?"

Alexander had very dark hair, and a pale face. "Yes. I do. Will you require my assistance?"

"Yeah. Walk up with me. We gotta keep it quiet, and only shoot at what we can kill without getting shot, got it?"

We nodded.

"Let's move."

We moved quietly up the street, moving from alleyway to alleyway, and behind cars. The streets were deadly quiet, and dawn was just beginning to break. It would be light soon.

Price halted us to a stop, as two men came around the corner about thirty yards away, both carrying guns. No one moved.

"Alexander...you take out the one on the left. Quickly. On my count...one...two..._three."_

Just as the two men registered our presence, they dropped. I quickly helped Alexander and Price pull the bodies into an alleyway.

"Keep moving. We don't have much time."

We continued moving up the street, more cautiously. We were close to Hotel Lustig now, Kamarov told us, but we would have to find a way to the top of the building. Price said it wouldn't be a problem.

We reached the hotel a half hour later, stopping around the side of the building. The rest of Kamarov's men had joined us, a team of about thirty or so men.

"Soap, do you read?" Price said into his earpiece.

"I'm here."

"How's things looking up your way?"

"Fine. Yuri and I are at the top of the clocktower, where are you?"

"Right around the left side. I'll be up in ten."

"Copy. Good luck."

Price disconnected, and looked at me.

"Levark, stay here with Kamarov and his men."

I frowned, slowly. "What? No! I'm coming with you."

"No, you're staying down here with them."

"Why?! So I can watch you and pray to God Makarov doesn't capture you while you're up there? So I can just _hope_this whole thing wasn't just a trap? What use am I staying here?"

"Look, I can't-"

"Can't _what?"_I demanded. I never had a reason to speak out against him before, but I was angry this time. I knew I was in no position to disobey him, but I wasn't going to just stand by.

"Do you realize I wouldn't be able to bloody live with myself if I knew you were captured by that bastard? It would be _my fault._"

"That's not true. I'm not going to let myself get captured. Killing Makarov means just as much to me as it does to you. And I'm not going to leave you."

Kamarov looked from me to Price. "Decide on something fast, you guys gotta get up there."

Price finally sighed, and looked at me. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

Kamarov seemed surprised at Price's decision, but didn't say anything else. We ran around to back of the building, and threw open the door that led to a flight of steps. We had a lot of climbing to do. About halfway up, one man who was hurrying down nearly crashed into us. I finished him with a knife to the throat before he could cry out. Price and I stepped around the body, hurrying up flight after flight of steps, only stopping once we reached an Employee Only door that would take us to the roof. We stopped to catch our breath once we got there-even Price was panting from the effort.

The wind howled around us, and I felt a bit uneasy being up so high. Price pulled out two rappelling ropes, and attached them to one of the spikes on the building.

"Soap. Petral and I are on the roof, can you spot us through your scope?"

A pause, then: "Yes. Looks like Makarov's late for his own funeral..."

"Patience lad. Kamarov is our eyes and ears inside the building., he'll be able to give us any heads up."

Price and I peered over the side of the building, just in time to see five vans pull up in front.

"Vehicles in motion." Price said. "Do you have sight on Makarov?"

"No. Vehicles pulling into the garage now."

"Kamarov, do you read?" Price said into the earpiece. No reply.

"Probably forgot to switch it on..." Soap grumbled.

"Doesn't matter. We move forward with the plan."

Price handed me one of the rappels. "You ready?" I nodded.

"Taking out two men at the balcony now. Be ready." Soap murmured.

"On the ready."

I had little experience rappelling, even if they did teach us in boot camp. So I'll admit it, I was scared. But I didn't fall, or scream.

The loud echo of Soap and Yuri's sniper rifles going off echoed throughout the city just as Price and I touched down on the balcony. The curtain fell away, and we ran inside the room, diving behind a desk. We opened fire on the men in the room, and within minutes, all was quiet.

But there was no sign of Makarov.

"Price, who the hell is that?"

We turned. Tied to the chair, with a beeping light strapped to him, was Kamarov.

"I'm so sorry, Captain Price..." he whispered. My blood turned to ice.

"PRICE, PETRAL GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!" Soap screamed.

We bolted down the stairs in panic, taking much less time than before since we were going down only two flights.

"Captain Price...Hell awaits you." said a quiet, thin voice in our earpieces. Makarov.

No sooner did he say that, then the entire second floor of the hotel erupted into a massive explosion. We flew forward, out earpieces flying off our heads. A second later, the clocktower across the street exploded. With Soap and Yuri still inside.

I scrambled to my feet, spitting out mouthfuls of blood. I quickly helped Price to his feet, and we sprinted across the street. I immediately spotted Yuri laying on the ground, groaning and coughing.

"YURI!" I screamed. I hurried over to him, and pulled him to his feet. He looked shocked, and he kept muttering something under his breath that I couldn't understand-

"Soap, cmon, stay with me! Levark, help me carry Soap!"

Soap didn't look good. At all. He couldn't stand, and was having trouble breathing. I couldn't tell what was wrong with him, but there was blood seeping through his vest at an alarming rate. Panicking, I helped Price lift Soap. Yuri was able to walk on his own, but the shocked and horrified look didn't leave his face.

Around us, the world was coming to an end. Not literally, but that's what it felt like. Kamarov's men were scattering, trying to figure out where to go, as enemy troops came moving in from the west.

"We've gotta get Soap to safety, Yuri, take point! We need to MOVE!"

"Price..." Soap mumbled, his eyes half closed. "Makarov...he said-"

"Save your strength!" I said quickly, helping Price lift him off the ground. Gunfire roared around us as we heaved him into a building. Yuri font-kicked a man with holding a knife, ending him with a bullet to the head. We stormed through the house, quickly exiting the other side.

I ground my teeth together in anxiety, barely able to hold Soap up.

"Price, how much further?" I yelled over the roar.

"Not much father. Keep moving Yuri!"

I struggled to get the pistol out of my belt, putting a bullet through one man crouched behind a trash can. I tried to cover behind us the best I could, but bullets flew over our heads, barely missing us. Soap was breathing unevenly, in strained gasps.

"Makarov..." he muttered. "He knows-he knows..."

His sentence was cut off by violent coughing, blood dribbling down his chin that only added to my panic. We crouched down behind a large fountain, Yuri trying to kill as many hostiles as possible. Price and I helped out, but there were too many.

We heaved Soap through a wooden door through another building, where several of Kamarov's men stood inside. Price could barely control his shaking hands, as he yelled at me to try and fix him. To do _anything._I looked down at the broken soldier laying on the table, feeling absolutely hopless.

There was nothing I could do.

"Price..." Soap murmured. He grabbed the front of Price's vest, pulling him within inches of his face.

"Makarov...knows...Yuri..." he croaked. He released Price, and laid back on the table.

One final breath escaped the brave soldier's lips, before he closed his eyes for good. Captain John "Soap" MacTavish was dead.

**A/N: As usual, a big thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited! I hated this point in the game, it was SO sad. :( One of my biggest worries for this story is having Price be too OOC. If any of you notice any flaws in his character, please let me know! Thanks everyone!**


	8. No Place to Love

**A/N: Oh gosh, I've been very busy lately! School just started back up again for me, and I have an AP course I'm taking. (aaaaaaaah.) So I'll try my best to keep the updates coming as fast as I can. Thanks as usual everyone! I appreciate all the support I've been getting on this story so far...I can't believe I'm starting to near the end. Enjoy!**

Chapter 8: No Place to Love

"No, no, NO! SOAP!" Price screamed, shaking the broken, unmoving body of John MacTavish. I slowly backed away from the table in horror. I could feel tears building up behind my eyes, but they wouldn't fall.

Soap was dead.

I could swear that I watched the light fade from Price's eyes. The determined light that wanted Makarov, and anyone associated with him, dead. All of a sudden, he looked empty, broken, and sad.

He bowed his head. "I'm sorry." he whispered, placing a pistol on Soap's chest before putting it back into his belt. Yuri just stood in horrified silence.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Bullets rocketed through the glass windows, and the three of us hit the ground, crawling towards the basement door in the house.

"Yuri! Open the door!" Price yelled over the roar.

Yuri fumbled for the doorknob, yanking it open. In that second, Price's fist connected with Yuri's face, sending Yuri flying down the staircase. He hit the ground hard with a groan.

Price pulled out the pistol from his belt and stormed down the staircase with a look of pure fury on his face. He aimed it right at Yuri's face.

"_Soap __**trusted**__ you! I THOUGHT I COULD TOO!"_

I sprinted down the stairs after Price.

"NO! DON'T DO IT!" I screamed at him, trying to grab the gun out of his hand. He shoved me roughly to the side.

"Price, _listen_ to me! He saved my life, just give him a chance to-"

"Why the _bloody hell _should I trust him, Levark?! _Why?!"_

"He saved my life. Months ago. He saved me from a grenade explosion. If he's really a spy for Makarov, why the hell would he risk his own life to protect mine?"

Price looked at me, then down at Yuri who was still laying on the ground. The pistol never lost its aim on Yuri's face.

"_Talk."_ he hissed. "Why in the _bloody hell_ does Makarov know you?"

Yuri took a deep breath, not taking his eyes off of Price.

"I was young. Very young, and very patriotic," he began, shakily at first, but gaining more confidence as he went along.

"Zakhaev...he was full of ideas of a new world. I was there during one of his speeches in Pripyat... I believe he was trying to make a deal with someone, but I don't remember. It was the day of his assassination attempt, which I'm sure you're more than just familiar with. I was asleep in the back of a car and Makarov was sitting in the front seat. He awoke me just before you shot him. We figured out it was you quickly enough Price. I remember there was chaos, and Zhakaev stumbled into our car, his entire right arm missing. There was blood everywhere, as Makarov sped away..."

"Then later, much later, we were in Al-Asad's safehouse. Makarov had planted a nuclear bomb in the middle of the city, about thirty kilometres from out position. I watched as the city went up in flames by Makarov's hand. Power corrupts, Captain Price. I'm sure you know this by now."

"I was done. I had enough with Makarov's bloody slaughter. I went to the Loyalists, and explained his tactics, his next moves, and tried to negotiate ways to stop him. But of course, he figured it out soon enough. In the middle of the night, his men dragged me from my bed and to the airport where Makarov and two of his men were about to begin the massacre. He told me how disappointed he was that I, his ally and friend, had become his betrayer. So he shot me in the stomach, and left me on the ground to die as I watched him and his men walk into the elevator to take them up. I was the enemy now. I don't know what I planned to do next, but once I was conscious enough, I dragged myself into the elevator and into the airport."

"Bodies lay everywhere. Men, women, and children lay slaughtered like animals on the ground. I could barely move, but I managed to pull myself up, and stagger towards the escalators. I could hear the screams and gunfire from the top of the escalators, but I collapsed where I stood. Hours later, the medics found me, thinking I was one of the civilians. And from then on, I joined the Loyalists. I trained to be a sniperman. I became a soldier. I met you and your team."

Yuri finished his story, looking tired and worn. Price had lowered his gun.

"Fine...you've bought yourself some time. For now."

He turned, and made his way back up the steps as I hurriedly helped Yuri to his feet. The gunfire had ceased from the streets, and everything was deadly quiet. It was time to leave. The Loyalists would take care of Soap's body.

Nikolai quickly enough received word of Soap's death. None of us spoke a word as we flew away. Soap's death hung in the air like a thick, poisonous fog. We were shaken, and God knows when Price would fully trust Yuri again. I didn't know if it was foolish or not to trust him completely...I just couldn't find a reason not to. But it didn't matter right now. We didn't kill Makarov, and Soap lost his life. Died for nothing. Price looked completely broken, which killed me even more. He didn't speak, but he was blinking rapidly, and his face looked lost and confused. It frightened me to see him this way...he was always so strong.

I felt numb, but I managed to move closer to him, so my shoulder was just brushing his.

"There's a clock tower in Hereford," Price said hoarsely, not looking at me, "Where the names of the dead are inscribed. We try to honor their deeds, even as their faces fade from our memory..."

Yuri covered his face with his hands, sitting away from Price and I. He stayed silent, as usual.

"But you don't ever forget them entirely." I said quietly. He looked at me.

"No, we don't."

Our chopper landed just outside of Prague. A group of Loyalists were there, to give us Soap's few belongings that he had with him. His rucksack, some of his weapons, and his dog tags, which Price clutched firmly in his hand so hard, I worried he might cut his skin.

We took off again. Price went through Soap's rucksack, finding a small radio, a knife, a flashlight, and several small pieces of paper along with some extra clothing. Price pulled the paper out slowly. They were photographs.

I recognized Price and Soap among the group of men, but none of the others. Someone had written "The boys of Task Force 141" at the top. All the men were smiling in the photograph. The other photograph had Soap and Price in it, but there were different men in this one.

Price grimaced at the third one. It was just the two of them in this one. Price was playfully punching Soap in the shoulder in this one, and they were both laughing. I felt my eyes burn, but I wouldn't cry.

"The men in these photographs are dead. Gaz, Griggs, Ghost, Roach, Archer, Meat. All of them are gone. These two men," he pointed to wo men standing to the far left, "Had better be rotting in hell. Shepard and Allen..." he scowled darkly at the photograph.

He put the photographs back into the rucksack, and was silent. I put my hand on his shoulder, and felt him stiffen.

"It's okay to be sad. Don't think you're not allowed to be." I told him softly. His dark brown eyes bore into mine, and then he looked away. I crawled over to my section of the small chopper. Yuri spoke up.

"Price...you are in no position to trust me right now, and I know that...but there was another voice. Along with Makarov's. The second Makarov said that...that he knew me...another man said 'Captain Price. We meet again.' And that was it. I'm certain it wasn't Makarov, the man had a British accent. I had no idea who it could be..."

Price looked disturbed. "What? Are you bloody sure, Yuri?!" he demanded.

Yuri nodded.

"Who is it?" I said quietly to Price. He shook his head.

"It can't be anyone I know...it's impossible. Every bastard that could be working for Makarov that I know would be dead. Yuri, are you sure this man had a British accent?"

Yuri nodded again. "Yes. That's what had puzzled me momentarily before the explosion. Soap seemed to recognize him, just briefly before..." he trailed off, knowing it was unwise to finish his sentence.

Price just shook his head again. "I don't know. But I'm going to bloody well find out. If he knows me, he's doing a damn good job at keeping himself hidden. But we'll find him."

As Price talked, I could see it in him again. That determined, angry spark that came with hunting down anyone associated with Makarov. I couldn't help but smile.

"We'll find him when we find Makarov." I said confidently, trying to boost his spirits.

He nodded, and gave a small smile. "Yeah. We will."

But later that night, I lay in silence, listening to Yuri's light breathing. The chopper was dark, and even though it was pleasantly cool, I couldn't sleep. Price was up on his laptop. He managed to contact MacMillan, and they talked in low voices.

"Soap's dead..." he murmured. It almost sounded like a whimper, as he forced himself to keep his voice calm and steady. "Makarov killed him. He's gone, Mac."

His voice broke on the word 'gone'.

MacMillan sighed. "What do you need from me son?"

"Weapons. I'm sending you what I need now. Our Russian informed us of Makarov's weapon storage in in Prague, that's been getting a lot of shipments in and out."

"Can you trust him, John?"

"What choice do I have?"

Silence between them.

"I'm getting intel on his location now...Makarov should be in the castle if you arrive there in enough time. Up on the top floor, in the control room. What about the girl, John? Do you trust her enough to pull this the rest of the way through?"

"I trust that girl with my life." Price murmured. "She's the only one left I can count on out here. Mac, I'm bloody scared. I feel like I'm on my own for this now. But...Levark is strong. She's here though, you know?"

MacMillan sighed again. "Don't get soft on me now, laddie. You can't afford to fall in love with this girl, not now."

I stiffened, clamping my mouth shut to keep from yelling. This wasn't fair. I knew how I felt about him now...I loved him. But how was I supposed to say that?

I always hated the thought of falling in love. I had my crushes back when I was a teenager, but I learned quickly enough that all it brought was heartache and sadness. I swore to myself I wouldn't allow myself to fall in love, not ever.

But now, in the middle of a deadly war, with myself on a team of highly trained Special Operations, I fall in love with the captain of the team. The strong, brave, hurt captain.

Captain John Price.

"I'm not in love with her, Mac." he said softly.

"Yes, you are, laddie. It's easy to see, because you've never been one to act like a fool around women, and I can tell by the way he says the girl's name. But do not let that cloud your head, you got that? Accept the fact that you love her, and move on. You might be able to catch Makarov here, and you can't let anything distract you now!"

"I know...thanks, Mac. You'll be able to get me that hardware?"

"Yeah...but that's a lot, son. What are you plannin' on doing?"

"Just what you taught me. Kill 'em all."

"That's my boy." MacMillann chuckled softly. "I gotta go. Don't you lose your head now, son. You've come too far. But keep that girl close, you understand?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mac. Out."

Tears threatened to spill down my cheeks. I curled up into a tight ball underneath my thin blanket, wanting nothing more than to just fling my arms around John and tell him it was okay. That everything was going to be okay.

But everything wasn't. He knew that, and so did I. Nothing would be alright until Makarov was dead.

War was no place to fall in love.


	9. Storming the Castle

**A/N: So sorry for the late update guys, I'll try my hardest to keep them coming more regularly!**

Chapter 9: Storming the Castle (Through the POV of Captain John Price)

She was sleeping, curled up on her side with her knees drawn close to her body. Occasionally, I would hear her stir, or whisper something in her sleep, but she didn't wake. Yuri was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling in silence.

For the first time in what felt like weeks, I examined myself in the one mirror we had on the chopper. My face was covered in a layer of grime, and multiple scratches. Petral's face didn't look much better.

I dug out a few paper towels and wet them with my water bottle, rubbing them across my face until I managed to look a bit less savage. I was about to do the same for Petral, but I stopped myself, feeling stupid. She was capable of doing it on her own.

I tossed a couple over to Yuri. He mumbled a thanks, and gently wiped his face down as well.

"You think we should wake her up?" Yuri asked, gazing at the girl intently.

I looked up. "Yeah. Guess so."

I tossed one of the wet paper towels on her face. She wrinkled her nose and grimaced, her eyes blinking open. Yawning, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, taking the wet paper towel off her face. She glanced at me and chuckled sleepily.

"Ah...thank you," she said dryly, wiping her face down. "Oh wow...that feels better..."

She began to cough violently, as if she had the flu. She sat upright when she finished, blinking hard.

"Yeah. We were all in need of that. You alright?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Of course. I'm always alright," she said with a small smile. "I have a small cold or something..." I nodded.

"Alright..."

"Price, should we discuss the situation in Prague now that we're all awake?" Yuri asked cautiously. I knew he was trying to be careful. I didn't have any other choice but to trust this man at the moment, and I hated that. I knew I shouldn't have to question the loyalty of my men, but there wasn't another option. Soap was dead, and that only left Petral for me to confide in.

I trusted Petral with my life. But did she trust Yuri? Was she blind by his kindness, or could she see a reason why we needed to be cautious? Was she having the same problem I was? I didn't know and I knew I couldn't talk to her about it right now.

She looked at Yuri, confusion spreading across her face. "Prague? But didn't we just-"

"Makarov has a castle located near the city. It's a storage place for weaponry, and Yuri says Makarov is most likely going to be there in four days."

She looked at me then, with a slightly confused expression. It was clear what she was wondering why I was going off something that Yuri saisd. She knew I didn't trust him, and I knew in that moment that she didn't either.

"It will be heavily guarded," Yuri added. "We will have to find a way in without arousing attention. It is not going to be easy at all, but I do not think we have any other choice, even with the weapon shipments we're going to be receiving from MacMillain."

She was quiet for a moment.

"Does this mean we might actually...get him this time? Like, for good?"

"It will be. This is it. If he's there, he's not getting out of this alive."

She smiled that certain way again. The way that someone can only smile when everything is truly going to shit and there's just nothing else to do. I love that, and couldn't help but smile back. Despite it all, this girl could still grin. Could still find some kind of happiness in the deep pit of Hell we were digging ourselves into. I was sure I would never be happy again when I watched Soap die right before my eyes. But Petral was here. Maybe I could.

"So being quiet is going to be key here, isn't it?"

Yuri and I nodded.

She coughed again, harder than the last time. "Okay...right. Got it."

With that, she picked up her journal and began writing. I hadn't written in mine in some time now...I figured I probably should. I didn't plan on dying at the castle, but if I did, I wanted to leave something worth reading behind before I did.

She dug into her bag, and pulled out her small asthma inhaler. I saw her look at the back of it and frown.

"Dammit..." she murmured.

I looked up. "What?"

"My inhaler. It's out."

She shook it, and attempted to use it, but grimaced in defeat.

"Do you have another one?"

She coughed and shook her head. "No, I don't. I'll be fine, I just..."

Her voice trailed off with a sigh. "I'll be fine." she said again.

I was worried now. We didn't let men into the Special Operations who had asthma for this reason, or even **into **the military. With the war that was reaching desperate measures, it was easy to see that they were accepting anyone they could get now. I glanced over at Yuri, who was biting his lip with a grave expression on his face.

She was coughing all throughout the night. The only thing she could do was drink water, and take the couple of ibuprofen that we had. I could hear her wheezing with every inhale, and it was clear that she was sick. By the next day, she could barely move and was shivering.

"Yuri and I will have to infiltrate the castle ourselves." I told her quietly. "You can't go out like this."

Her eyes widened in protest. "No!" she yelled pitifully, going into another coughing fit. She shook her head. "I'm fine. You can't go out there alone!"

"You're really bloody stubborn, you know that?"

"John, I'm SERIOUS!"

She bent over again, coughing hard enough to make her body shake.

"Just give me until the day of the attack. Please," she begged.

This girl was begging to go out and put her life at risk. I didn't know if I should laugh, or be worried. Either way, she was too sick to move, let alone be crawling out there getting shot at.

She was no better the next day.

I let her sleep for the rest of the day. God knows she needed it. Yuri and I didn't talk much, and had nothing productive to do to keep us occupied. Still, I was surprised when Yuri, after a few hours of silence spoke up.

"Tell me John...do you love her?"

I blinked. "What?"

"The girl. Do you love her?"

"Why the hell do you need to-"

"John, please just answer me."

I stood up and stalked away to the other side of the chopper.

"What the HELL does it matter?! Why does everyone want to know so badly? I don't see what the bloody problem is! There's a WAR going on, in case you haven't noticed, and this kind of shit isn't important right now, for God's sake! What matters is finding Makarov, and I don't have time to think about-about _this!_"

I was so angry and frustrated. First Mac, now Yuri. What did it matter? Why did everyone need to know so badly?! It didn't matter even if I did love her. She's a young woman, she wouldn't be interested in someone like me anyway...

But I didn't care, and it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but finding Makarov.

The day finally came. It was time to invade the castle, and we were ready. Petral was definitely better, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she was making herself look a lot better than she felt. She was determined to go, and I wasn't going to be the one to try and stop her.

It was dark, and raining heavily. I handed Petral and Yuri a parachute as we got ready to drop ourselves down. I think this was the first time I've ever seen Petral look scared.

"Open heights..." she said shakily over the roar of the rain. "Uh...never been a strong point for me really..."

I snorted. "We'll be on the ground soon enough. But look...this is it, this could all be over in just a few hours." I looked at her, expecting her to smile, as usual. She didn't. She was solemn, and if I didn't know better, I'd say she looked almost remorseful. I sighed and adjusted my pack, looking over at Yuri, who was ready.

"On three?"

They nodded.

"One...two...THREE!"

I just noticed Petral as she squeezed her eyes shut, and the three of us jumped. I could feel the icy air roar in my ears, before I deployed my parachute, and could see that Petral and Yuri did likewise. We landed near a group of trees, and in the distance, I could see the castle surrounded by lights, trucks, and men. It was dark outside, but the dangerous spotlights from the castle provided more than enough light to find our way. We needed to stay away from them, or we were as good as dead.

I put on my night vision goggles.

Petral and Yuri landed about ten yards away from me, and hurried over to where I was crouching behind a stone wall, their goggles on as well.

"Can hear me alright?" I said quietly into my earpiece.

"Yeah, I got you," Petral replied.

Yuri nodded.

"Alright. Follow me. Stay low. Don't screw anything up."

It was time to be the leader again. And that made me pretty damn happy.

We crept slowly towards the trucks, and hid underneath the big one. About fifteen yards away, two men were speaking Russian in low voices, both carrying flashlights.

"What are they talking about, Yuri?"

"Um...there's a...prostitute den nearby...that they're going to once they're done with their post-"

"That's wonderful and all, but how about anything on Makarov?!" Petral hissed.

He shook his head. "Uh, no, nothing-"

"Shut up!" I whispered. The men had grown quiet, and were walking towards our truck, muttering to each other. They stopped. I looked at Yuri, and he nodded, knowing exactly what I wanted him to do.

He very slowly eased himself out from under the truck, the rain covering most of the small noise he was making. I followed suit, motioning for Petral to stay where she was. We crouched behind the truck, and I nodded at him. We bolted out from behind the truck and each grabbed one of the men, finishing them off quietly with a knife to their throats. Wiping blood off my face, I motioned for Petral to come out from under the truck. I motioned for them to follow me.

We crouched behind another large truck, barely breathing as a small group of men walked past us, talking in low voices. A spotlight flashed dangerously close. We needed to move.

"Let's go," I murmured.

We crept forward. Occasionally, thunder would boom above us, or lightening would streak across the sky, but we went undetected, moving from behind rock walls, trucks, and trees. Occasionally, we'd take a man down using our knives, then drag the body out of sight if possible. I was still unnerved. I could hear Petral's ragged, labored breathing no matter how quietly she tried to keep her breath low. She needed an asthma inhaler, badly.

Eventually, we reached a side door leading under the castle. No men were in sight, and the door was locked from the inside. I could break it down, but that would create a lot of noise. I paused for a minute.

"Get your weapons ready. I'm going to kick in this door, but it's probably going to give away our position. Yuri, take this."

I tossed him a smoke grenade.

"Use it if we need it. Ready?"

They nodded.

"Alright."

I kicked it hard, and it immediately broke open with a loud crack that could be heard over the pouring rain. We froze momentarily, but no men were in sight.

Where was everybody?

A dark, stone stairway lead down to far below the castle. I motioned for Petral and Yuri to follow me, keeping watch for anyone who might sneak up behind us. We descended down the staircase, wary of the light that was dimly illuminating the staircase that lead into the basement. On the last flight of steps, I heard voices, speaking in that unmistakable Russian.

"There down here," I murmured. "I don't know how many...I'll take care of the lights. Nightvision on, and open fire on my go, got it?"

They were ready.

"Okay...ready..._let's move._"

Petral and Yuri sprinted down the stairs and opened fire. I took my pistol and fired half a round into the control box opposite me, causing the entire basement to be flooded with darkness. I heard men yell as I quickly went to help Petral and Yuri with the fight.

I knocked two men out immediately, one with the butt of my pistol, the other by shoving his head into the stone wall. None of the Russians could see anything, which gave us an almost relieving advantage.

"John! They're using flares, they're lighting the place up, we can't-"

Yuri was suddenly cut off at the same moment that two flares burst into flame not ten yards from me. Almost the entire basement was flooded with light now, and the men were holding their ground all too well.

I heard Petral swear loudly from somewhere across the room, as the shouts and screams from the Russians filled the air. One man charged at me, knife raised. I reacted quickly, ducking out of the way of the swinging dagger that missed my throat by mere inches. Quickly, before the man had time to recover, I ended him with a shot to the head.

"Petral, where are you?!" I yelled into my earpiece, taking cover behind an overturned table.

No reply.

"_Petral, come in!"_

Nothing.

The sudden silence in the room was enough to make me jump.

_What the hell-_

"NOBODY MOVE OR SHE DIES!"

I froze in horror. The voice was heavily accented in Russian, but it wasn't Yuri's. The remaining men in the room grew silent, but I could hear a muffled grunting-

I dashed from my cover to the other side of the large wall dividing the room. A large, muscular man had Petral in a strong grip, one hand around her mouth, another with a long dagger pressed to her throat. About six other men were watching, and Yuri was completely still, not four feet from the man.

"Drop your weapons!" he barked, pushing the point of the blade deeper into her exposed throat. "_NOW!"_

Yuri and I let our guns clatter to the ground, our hands raised.

"Search them."

The men searched us, our pockets, our vests, everything. Once they were satisfied that we no longer contained anything that was dangerous, they gave their leader the O.K.

Petral was struggling angrily, kicking at the man to in attempt to escape. The man pressed the knife deeper into her throat, causing blood to flow more steadily down her neck. She whimpered in pain.

I felt my chest contract with panic as Petral's eyes went from angry to pleading.

"Just take us to Makarov," I growled, trying not to sound as terrified as I felt.

The man laughed, and pretty soon the rest of the surviving soldiers joined him.

"Vladimir Makarov is not here."

He released his grip on Petral's mouth. I could hear her breathing again, raspy and labored. She was trembling now as a small bead of blood ran down her throat where the knife was held. The man glared at me now, and with his free hand, pulled out a pistol.

"Follow me. Try anything, and she dies. Move!"

Shoving Petral forward, we followed the large man into another room, the soldiers right behind us with their guns aimed at us.

A long table took up almost the entire room, and he roughly shoved Petral into one of the chairs.

The room was bare, the walls and floors a dirty gray. There were no windows, no other doors, and the soldiers blocked out only exit. We were powerless.

Petral was a deathly pale, her breaths shaky. She was slightly hunched over with the effort to get oxygen flowing through her lungs, and I saw that her neck was still bleeding. Blood was smeared across her face, and it took all my resolve not to tackle the man who was standing before me. I knew I could have taken him down, especially with Yuri's help, if it weren't for the armed men standing only feet away.

_How many more of them are there?_

If it was just those six, at least just on this floor, we might be able to take them if we could surprise them somehow. Even if I could get ahold of my dagger back.

But I knew that one wrong move, and Petral was dead. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I was scared.

I had seen men like this before. Rough and angry looking, big, and dirty. They were the interrogators.

I knew this man would do whatever necessary to gain as much information out of us as he could, and I knew he wouldn't torture Yuri or myself.

He'd make us watch Petral suffer.

Six men, plus this man made seven. Seven men, one with a pistol, the rest with rifles. One man had Petral's life in his hands. The others would act when given orders, or when threatened.

It was like a logic puzzle. As Petral stared at me, I was aware that this was probably the only time I had ever seen her truly terrified. I needed to sort out a way to get us the hell out of here, and soon.

The large man pulled out a knife, and Petral's eyes widened even more, if possible. She stayed silent though, and looked between Yuri and myself, before locking her eyes with mine.

"Now," the man began gruffly, turning the knife in his large hands, "We can make this very simple. Tell me what you're doing here, who your organization is, and who else you have with you, and I won't have to ruin this pretty little face."

He gently laid the blade on

He held the knife close to her exposed face, letting the blade brush against her cheek. Petral immediately went rigid with anger, and she glared at him.

"_Don't touch me!" _she snarled. The man chuckled.

"Brave one, isn't she? Maybe she needs a little reminder as to where she is."

He drew the knife across her cheek, causing her to let out a cry of pain, arching her back in the chair.

"NO, STOP!" I shouted, lunging at the man. He shoved me roughly, causing me to stumble backwards against the chairs. Yuri quickly moved to help me up, and had to restrain me from lunging at the man again, much to the amusement of the soldiers behind us.

I realized then that this man had full control over us. We had no choice, but to hope that Nikolai and his men would realize something was wrong when we never answered our coms, or gave a report.

We would have to hold out until then.

Petral stared at me again, her eyes wide and frightened. Blood ran down her cheek from where the cut was made. For the first time in my life, I felt that hope was lost for me and my team.


	10. To the Limit

I heard the cell next to me open, and one of the men say something in Russian. With a cry, Petral was shoved into the cell and the door slammed shut. I was sitting with my head in my hands on the other side of the cell, listening to their footsteps grow fainter and fainter as the walked down the dark hallway and into another room. I couldn't bring myself to look at Petral. They had her for almost an hour, and I didn't even want to begin to think about what they did to her while she was gone.

Yuri's cell was on the other side of mine, and he stayed silent, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead. Otherwise, his expression was blank. I ground my teeth together and forced myself to look at Petral.

Her one eye was badly bruised and almost completely swollen shut. The rest of her face was lined with cuts and her lower lip was swollen. I saw red marks on her neck, and sweat rolled down her face. Her dark hair looked like it was matted with blood, and her hands were trembling**.** She didn't look at me**, **but was bent over her one leg, shaking in pain.

I couldn't say anything. For a while, the three of us were silent. I noticed that no guards stood outside or cells, and for a moment, I was confused. But then I saw them-three cameras lined the hallway, most likely with men watching us even now. I knew that Yuri saw them too.

I was confident that when Nikolai didn't hear anything from us in time, he'd hopefully send his men to come and find us. Trying to escape on our own seemed pointless now, but what would they do to break us? What _could_ they do? I dared not think about what they'd do to Petral over time, in fear of keeping my sanity.

I didn't know of what information they could possibly want that would be of any use to them at this point in the war, unless the Ultranationalists were planning something major, which discomforted me more than I wanted to admit. But was Makarov even here in the castle? If he was, I didn't care about my own life, if it meant killing him, but I didn't know that for sure, and it was too risky to take a chance at trying to find him.

I turned towards Petral, who was now staring straight ahead, breathing heavily.

"What did they ask you?"

She swallowed, and opened her mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, glancing at the camera, and then to me. I nodded, understanding that we couldn't say a word of anything that had to do with what we were doing, not even here.

"Who we were...why we came here...where the rest of our men were. They showed me a picture of you, John. They know who you are, and they wanted to know what our plans were, and where the vice president was." Her words sounded forced.

Shit. I took a deep breath.

"What did you tell them?"

She turned to look at me, her face solem.

"I didn't tell them anything. I didn't speak at all, I just stayed silent. But, if it had looked like they were going to kill me, I would've spoken...I didn't want to die and leave you-"

She was cut off by a slamming door at the end of the dark hallway. A man stood by the door, hunched over and speaking hurriedly into a walkie-talkie in Russian that I couldn't make out completely. I didn't know fluent Russian yet, and that continued to anger me more and more everyday.

The man shouted something, sounding frustrated. The three of us stayed silent. I don't even think the man knew we were in here. After a moment, he walked back through the doorway that he came through and disappeared.

I turned towards Yuri, who looked shocked.

"What did he say?" Petral and I asked in unison.

Yuri shook his head slowly. "Makarov has the president," he said quiet. In Eastern Siberia, right here in Russia. He's holding him and his daughter there personally.

"We could go after them..." Petral murmured, her voice cracking. "If we can get out of here, we can go after them."

"I can think of a plan if Nikolai's men don't look like they're going to come and save us. He should suspect something is wrong when we don't answer our coms, but I don't know how long that's going to take. But whatever happens," I turned to Petral, then to Yuri, "_Do not let them break you_. Understood?"

But I knew it was different for Petral. She was a girl. There were things those bastards would do to her that they wouldn't do to Yuri and I. I felt physically sick to my stomach thinking about it, and I tried to push the thought away.

_I never should have brought her here._

I knew Mac would have my head for this. It was a soldier's duty not to let emotions get in the way of combat, and I was supposed to know that better than anybody else.

_But what was I supposed to do? Soap's dead, and Yuri and I can't do this alone. And she would never leave...she wants Makarov dead as much as I do._

No, I couldn't send her away...

But I knew I was lying to myself. While it was true, she _was_ too stubborn for her own good and it would take the devil himself to get her to leave, I didn't _want_ her to leave. I had gotten to know her too well, I cared about her just as I did Soap, Ghost, Roach, Mac...

But I wasn't able to admit to myself _how_ much, and looking back now, it was too much. I cared for this girl way too much, more than any soldier should care about a woman in the line of combat. It was stupid of me to even bring her along in the first place, on that day the Russians bombed her safehouse. I should have dropped her off in a refugee spot the day she healed Soap. She was a brilliant soldier, but now we were captured by Makarov's men, and God knows what they'll do to her tomorrow.

I looked over at her again. Her eyes were half shut, and her face was locked in a grimace. She caught my stare, and immediately averted her eyes.

Ten minutes later, two men came in carrying platters of bread and water. **T**hey were dirty looking men, with long, unkempt hair and greasy faces. Both were armed.

"You try anything, we shoot, understand?" the shorter one barked.

We didn't say anything. The men pulled out their guns and walked into our cells, giving us each a tray of food. They smelled strongly of alcohol,

"Ah, look at this one. Very pretty, mmmhm, I like this one!"

Petral didn't give them the satisfaction of looking angry. But the man persisted.

He laid a hand rudely on her cheek, making childish faces at her to provoke her. "What is wrong, little girl? You should be 'appy we are giving you food in the first place! Aha, we could 'ave much fun with zhis one Alec!"

She responded by biting down hard on his wrist, drawing blood. With a shout the man jumped back, cursing in Russian and clutching his bleeding wrist. Petral smiled smugly at him.

The other man turned in alarm at his bleeding partner from Yuri's cell. Distracted, Yuri took the opportunity to tackle him. I could feel my pulse racing, but could do nothing to help as my cell was locked. I heard Petral scramble to her feet next to me, and punch the other man in the face, sending him falling to the ground. The men were both clearly drunk, and taking them out did not prove to be an issue for both Yuri and Petral. After a moment, Yuri managed to wrestle the gun away from Alec and shoot him in the head, killing him quickly. Petral did the same with the other man, gripping one of the bars of the cell for support.

"We need to get moving!" Petral yelled, grabbing the keys from the man and unlocking my cell. Standing up, she was in worse condition than I had initially thought. She couldn't walk without limping. Thee most I could do was stare at her for a second before Yuri joined us.

"The weapons room is upstairs." Yuri said quickly. "But we need to move before they realize their men are gone."

We glanced at the camera.

I turned to Petal. "Can you walk?"

She nodded. I didn't believe her, but there was nothing we could do about it right now.

All we had were two MP-7's, but luckily enough they were fully loaded. I motioned for Yuri and Petral to follow me towards the staircase. Petral barely made it ten steps before she crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.

"Bastards hit me in the knees with a metal baseball bat," she gasped, trying to get back up on her feet, but failing. A tear leaked down her cheek, and she angrily wiped it away.

I cursed. "Yuri, can you carry her? Give me your gun."

He gave me the other MP-7, and lifted Petral so that she was laying in his arms. I almost had to chuckle- I knew Petral was hating every minute of this.

I lead the way to the door to the staircase, opening it as quietly as it would allow. We ascended, listening for voices, but hearing none.

Where was everybody?

As if on queue, someone began screaming in Russian, and more voices followed from around the corner. I heard men running outside, armed. Confused, I turned to Yuri. He was grinning.

"It's the Loyalists! Nikolai has come, he has all his men with him-"

He was cut off by a thundering explosion from outside, causing the whole ceiling to shake.

"If Nikolai's here, we need to wait downstairs. We're poorly armed and Petral can't even stand. Let's go!"

We quickly ran back downstairs, as another explosion caused chunks of the ceiling to come raining around us.

"They didn't shatter my knees." Petral gasped, as Yuri set her down beside one of the cells. "But I think they're broken. Yuri, are you sure Nikolai and his men are here?"

"Yes. The men were shouting about the Loyalists arriving, and to defend the castle. I'm going to go out there and help fight." He stood up. "John, you can stay here with Petral?"

"You know it's gonna be dangerous out there, Yuri." Another explosion wracked the castle, causing Yuri to nearly lose his footing.

"I know. Stay here with Petral, I'll bring Nikolai back soon."

I nodded. "Alright. Good luck."

He nodded, and ran upstairs. Petral pulled the legs of her pants up above her knees, examining the damage. She grimaced, clearly in a lot of pain.

"Dammit...Both my knees are definitely broken, thankfully not too badly. But if I try and walk, I'll just damage them more." She looked up at me, her ruined face making her look almost pitiful. "Yuri shouldn't have gone up there, not without you. You should go up there and help!"

"They'll either kill or re-capture you if they find you. And they'll do a lot worse to you then just break your knees if they find you again, Petral. They're vile, crude men that will take advantage of the fact that you're a woman. I've seen it happen."

She stared at me, a hint of fear glinting in her bright green eyes. She knew what I meant.

We both tensed as shouting was heard from above, voices coming down the staircase. I aimed my gun at the door as four men burst in. Given the advantage of surprise, I was able to take two of them before the other two charged at me, guns raised. I was forced to fight both of them at the same time, trying to keep them away from Petral the best I could. I yelled in frustration as I felt my gun get knocked from my hands and clatter to the floor. I felt a fist connect with my nose, sending blood running down my face. In response, I gave the one man a broken jaw, and sent the other sprawling to the floor. Before I knew it, I was pinned against the wall with the man's gun to my throat. Breathing heavily, I scowled at the Russian holding the gun to me." He just laughed.

"We've 'eard about you, Captain Price," the man chuckled. "Brave, daring leader of the British Task Force...you and your men brought down Zhakaev, no? I was a young man then, but I remember it well. Makarov is much more powerful than Zhakaev, Captain Price, and he-"

There was a loud sound of gunshot, and suddenly the man crumpled to the ground in front of me, dead. I looked over. Petral was holding the MP-7, a look of irritation on her face. She hastily set it down, looking up at me, then down at the corpse crumpled on the ground.

"Uh, thanks."

"No problem."

I sighed, chuckling despite myself. She smiled at me, and soon she was laughing too. Because, why the hell not? Everything was going to be okay, and if not, then we'd die with a smile on our faces.

And anyway, we had two guns now.

We didn't have to wait for much longer. I heard voices on the stairs once more, but as Petral and I prepared to open fire, we realized it was the voices of Yuri, Nikolai, and several other men. I sighed in relief. We were going to be okay.

"Price! Levark! Thank God..." Nikolai shouted as he and his men ran over to us. He clasped my hand. "Good to see you old man."

"You too. How soon can you get us out of here?"

"Right away." He spoke in Russian to one of his men. "Dmitri can carry Levark. The rest of our men are taking care of Makarov's men outside, but they're holding their own well. We're gonna have to move around the battlelines to get you guys out to the helicopters."

Without another word, Petral allowed Dmitri to carry her, with Nikolai, Yuri and I along with two other men up the stairs.

Nikolai began speaking quickly in Russian over his earpiece, and there was a pause. Another flurry of words I could barely make out, then he disconnected.

"They're pushing them back, it's time to move!"

"I'll take point, Yuri, you take Petral!" I ordered as we made our way upstairs. Running to the doors, I pushed them open halfway and aimed my gun outside. It looked like it was around noon outside, and the battle was raging outside. It looked like the Loyalists were able to hold their ground, but we needed to get a move on.

I was able to take down four men right off the bat, so focused on the battle in front of them that they didn't notice my attack from behind. Nikolai helped too- there weren't many men, and they were falling quickly.

Nikolai yelled something in Russian into his earpiece.  
"I told my men to fall back and to prepare the choppers. We just need to get over there now."

I nodded. "Let's move!"

As we moved into the battlefield, Yuri carrying Petral, I was hit with a wave of deja vu.

_Makarov...knows...Yuri..._

I ground my teeth together. No, no, _focus on the chopper. Get Petral and Yuri to safety. You can trust Yuri._

"Yuri, set Petral down behind that truck and help clear a path!"

We hurried behind the large truck, the choppers in sight, only about 50 meters away. The battle was small, but corpses littered the dark field as the crescent moon provided little light.

"John, we need to move, the choppers are ready to go!" Nikolai yelled as he aimed his gun at one man who was trying to move around us.

I grimaced, glancing at Yuri who was preoccupied on the other side of the truck.

"Let's go, Yuri, take Petral!"

There was no more cover from here to the chopper. I lead the way with Nikolai beside me, Yuri and Petral right behind us. We were running now. Nikolai yelled into his earpiece as we reached the chopper, the blades already going before we hurried inside. I aimed my gun at the ground as the chopper took flight, taking out three more men before the castle disappeared below us.

I sat down with Petral, Yuri and Nikolai, his co-pilot taking over for a few hours.

"Thank you, Nikolai," Petral said softly, smiling at him. Yuri and I murmured a thanks as well, and Nikolai chuckled.

"Can't kill Makarov without you guys. Oh, Petral, my men were able to get this for you..."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plastic asthma inhaler and gave it to Petral. She looked relieved, and stammered a thanks, looking like a child at Christmas.

Her knees were definitely broken, she determined after after she had taken her asthma inhaler. Luckily though, she said, they weren't broken badly.

We had braces for her to wear while they healed.

I helped her tend to the injuries on her face, making it so the cuts and gashes wouldn't get infected. Nothing except the one cut along her jawline would need stitches.

"When they had you in captive...did they do anything else to you?" I asked carefully, not daring to say it. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

I grabbed her arm, forcing her to look me right in the eyes.

"_Are you sure?" _

She nodded, not shrinking back from my gaze. "I promise. They hurt me...but not...in that way."

I let go, and sighed. I took off my hat and ran a hand through my hair, averting my eyes from her gaze.

"I'm just making sure...I...I've seen so much worse happen to women in the service...it's-it's not something you can forget..."

To my surprise, she moved closer to me and hugged me tightly. I allowed myself to hug her back, realizing I needed the comfort as much as she did.

"Nothing's going to happen to me. I promise." she said firmly, still holding me in the embrace.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Levark."

**A/N: Thank you, as usual, for my faithful reviewers. Before you guys click out, I just want to point out one thing. I have two goals for this story: One is to introduce a non-Mary Sue female OC to the team and have her be at least somewhat likeable. My other goal is to show a more human side to all the characters that we don't see in the game. I'm hoping showing their humanity doesn't make them seem to OOC, but keep in mind, they're all men very capable of shedding tears, falling in love, and becoming frustrated and angry. Thanks everyone!**


	11. Doctor, Soldier, Friend

Chapter 11: Doctor, Soldier, Friend (Through the POV of Lt. Petral Levark)

My knees were healing, but I was in pain all the time. To mine and Yuri's dismay, John was developing a high fever. We had what I needed to help, but the fever left him completely useless for days. He looked sick on the night we escaped, and within two days, his fever had spiked.

On the fourth day of our escape, I sat beside him as he laid on the floor, shivering. I was sitting a bit awkwardly, with my legs stretched out in front of me, one of the few positions that didn't send my knees into agony.

I had never seen him like this. He looked almost child-like, curled up on his side, surrounded in blankets and shivering. His fever had reached 105, which was really worrying me. I laid a hand gently on his forehead, grimacing. He was burning up. John was never the one who needed help, much less be cared for, but it was clear that he wasn't even able to move right now.

"D-didn't ever think you'd be m-my doctor, girlie..." he stammered, sounding completely exhausted. The effort of just talking sent him into a violent coughing fit. I sighed and put another blanket on him.

"There isn't much I can do right now. I'm going to give you this." I reached into the team's tattered black medical bag and pulled out one of our light sedatives, and a bottle of aspirin.

"I normally wouldn't do this, but you desperately need sleep..."

I rolled up his sleeve and injected the needle below his shoulder, and had him take the aspirin. He closed his eyes, his face stuck in a grimace.

I laid a hand gently on his shoulder, knowing he really didn't need the comfort, but wanting him to know I was still here for him.

"Is this going to be like in those movies where you end heroically t-taking my place in b-battle while I'm sick?" he chuckled lightly, his eyes beginning to shut. I sighed, smiling a little.

"Let's hope not, O Mighty Captain."

I don't even think he heard me. Within seconds, he was asleep.

Yuri came to sit beside me, grimacing at the state of his companion. Yuri already looked much better than he had a few days ago. Despite the layer of dirt that seemed to always stay on our skin and clothes all the time, I couldn't deny that he was very handsome. The bags had disappeared from his eyes now, and though he seemed tired, he looked alert.

"Will he be alright?" he asked.

I looked over at our sleeping captain. "I think so...I hope so. His fever is really high, but I think he can shake it, especially with the heavy aspirin I gave him. We just need to make sure he keeps eating and drinking when he wakes up."

Yuri nodded. "We need to contact the Delta Force. John said they recently had a failed mission trying to secure the president's daughter, but are interested in joining us to go after her again. We should contact them as soon as possible."

I nodded in agreement. Carefully stepping over the sleeping soldier, I went to retrieve his laptop.

"Do you know his password, Yuri?"

Yuri walked over to a small cabinet and pulled out a tiny piece of paper containing John's password. After we entered it into the computer, a bunch of windows popped up, all containing information on the ultranationalist movement in Russia. The background was the Task Force 141 insignia.

I wanted to start reading through the information, knowing it could only help if I knew more about who was fighting, and just having all that information right here in front of me was fascinating.

I moved the mouse over to the "video contact" button, a small list of contacts popping up. I selected the one that said "Delta", and pressed the "video call" option.

"Easy enough..." I murmured, waiting for Sandman to answer.

The screen went to static, then black, before the familiar face of the Delta Force leader appeared on the screen. He seemed surprised to see us, and I couldn't help but notice the dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He nodded in greeting.

"Good to see you, Lieutenant Levark, Yuri." His eyes widened, suddenly looking panicked. "Where's Captain Price?"

"Really sick...I gave him something to make him sleep. His fever reached 105 today. I've been doing all I can, but what he needs right now is sleep."

Sandman, who had obviously been fearing the worst, sighed with relief and nodded. "Captain Price told me your previous mission was far from a success, but didn't go into details. What exactly happened back there?"

I took a deep breath and launched into the lengthy explanation of our previous mission. Yuri added details here and there, and when we were done, Sandman looked anxious and even more exhausted.

"Thank God you guys made it out okay. I'm sorry my men couldn't have been there to help, but we recently had a failed mission as well. The president's daughter slipped right out from under us."

"That is what we wanted to talk to you about, captain," Yuri said. "Captain Price told us you would be interested in trying to rescue the girl one more time, yes?"

Before Sandman could answer, another man approached the camera, eyeing us curiously.

"Oh, Lieutenant Levark, Yuri, this is one of my best soldiers, Sergeant Derek "Frost" Westbrook."

He nodded at us, grunting a hello.

"As I was saying, we'd be more than glad to pull this mission through."

Frost turned to me. "Are you a member of Captain Price's team?"

I nodded. "Yes. Why?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You weren't apart of Operation Kingfish, were you?"

I shook my head. "Not then. But I am now. I'm a military doctor, I'm actually from America..." I trailed off.

He nodded, and was quiet.

"Lieutenant Levark has proven herself well," Sandman told him. I gave him a small smile. "And I think it's good for them to have a doctor on the team, especially now since Captain Price has fallen sick. Do you think he'll be back up on his feet soon?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I think so. I hope so anyway, his fever reached 105 this morning, and it's worrying me...we don't have all the medical supplies I would like to have access to, but I think I'll be able to help him shake this."

Sandman nodded. "Good to hear. My men and I have traced Alena, the daughter, back to a large diamond mine in Siberia. I can send you the coordinates in a few minutes. We plan on going after her as soon as possible, but I'm well aware that we need Captain Price for the mission. Is two days top going to be enough to get Captain Price up on his feet again?"

"It'll have to be," I murmured. "That will be fine."

"Good. We have to go soon, but we'll contact you again before the mission. Good luck to you both."

Yuri and I thanked him, and signed off.

The chopper, which was landed somewhere outside Somalia for refueling, was quiet. Yuri and I sat in silence for a little while while he sharpened his knife, and I wrote in my journal.

About fifteen minutes later, I broke the silence.

"Yuri...what made you want to join Makarov?"

I guess that was kind of a touchy question, but at the moment, I really didn't care. There were no secrets here, right? And he ought to know by now that I trusted him. He looked up from his knife, a little surprised by the question.

To my relief, he seemed to smile a little bit. "I was a young fool who wanted to see a new world. I was able to get close to Makarov early because he noticed my enthusiasm. I was willing to kill, willing to kill many for this crazy vision I shared with so many others...he admired me for it, and soon I knew all his plans, all his secrets. Looking back now, I understand why he seemed to take such an interest in me: I was a monster, just like him."

I opened my mouth to vehemently disagree, but he didn't allow me to continue.

"It was exciting for a little while, until I woke up and realized what this brave new world was going to really be like, ruled by Makarov.. I tried to talk him out of the Airport Massacre...but he would not listen to me. I thought the Loyalists would be able to stop him on time, but it was my fault because I did not alert them right away. I, like the foolish young man that I was, still thought that what Makarov was doing would be best for everyone. He had me fooled. He was always so good at words, it was easy for him to persuade... not that it's any excuse for my behaviour."

I allowed myself to study his face. His eyes were half-shut, his face screwed up into a grimace. I felt like I knew Yuri so much more now...he was a man, just like John, just like Soap, who had made bad decisions when he was younger. But now he was compensating for it, helping clean up the mess the man he had once looked up to had created in this world.

"Tell me, Petral, how did you end up in the services?"

I smiled a little, letting a sigh escape my lips.

"I went to college to be a doctor. My grades were always really good in school, and I knew from when I was a teenager that I wanted to go into the medical field. When World War III really started stirring up, I decided to join the military...I guess I underestimated the war more than I thought, because I never thought they would put me out there in Afghanistan, working in a safe-house while bombs were raining down around me. But I learned how to use a gun...I learned how to be a decent soldier...and then you guys found me."

He nodded, and seemed genuinely interested in my story.

"I am glad we found you, Petral. I don't think Captain Price and I could have managed on our own."

I chuckled. "I doubt that, but thank you anyway. You guys have made this a lot easier for me. And I don't want to leave until we find and kill Makarov."

Yuri nodded. "I understand that. I don't plan on leaving either."

I took a deep breath. "When we do...kill Makarov...what do you plan on doing afterwards?"

He thought for a moment. "I don't know...perhaps return to Russia. I am not married, but I've grown up there all my life...I'd find a life for myself. I understand that the Task Force is disavowed. Apparently, many men used to be apart of it. I would hope that Captain Price would rebuild once this is all done."

I nodded. "I hope so too."

We didn't speak of the alternative. We both knew all too well that any of us could lose our lives at any time, but there was no need to consider that. No need to dwell on anything more bleak than what we were facing now.

But I was glad I could spend time with Yuri. He was always so quiet, not that I could blame him, but very intelligent and an excellent soldier. We'd helped each other out on many occasions, and I knew that the tension of not wanting me here was gone with him.

"Petral, I would bet that you would have the option to join Sandman and his men once this is all done. I do not know how the United States works it military policy, but seeing how far you've come, I wouldn't be surprised if Sandman let you in with more formal training.

I nodded, considering the idea.

But the fact that I'd be so far away from John once this was all done...I didn't want to think about that. I didn't tell Yuri this, not wanting to sound like an idiot.

I glanced over at John, who was snoring quietly. As I went to put a hand on his forehead, I heard Yuri murmur something quietly under his breath. It took me a moment to realize he was singing.

"

Пусть он вспомнит девушку простую

Пусть услышит, как она поет

Пусть он землю бережет родную

А любовь Катюша сбережет

..."

I didn't understand what he was saying, since the song was obviously in Russian, but it was a quick, yet still slightly intriguing song. I smiled at him when he was finished the verse.

"It's a song my men used to sing when they grew bored. It's the last verse...I always thought it was a good song, well-known in my country."

"It sounds very familiar. I didn't know you liked to sing."

"Ah, I tend not to. Not exactly my strong point. I just ended up thinking about it for some reason..." he trailed off, turning his knife around in his hands. I turned my attention back to John. His forehead was still burning up. I'd take his temperature when he was awake.

"You know, I've been wondering, I must be assumed dead back at home. Dead or missing. I'd bet they assumed I was blown to pieces by the bomb raid that destroyed the safehouse back in Afghanistan," I murmured, suddenly realizing this.

He looked at me. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "I...it doesn't really bother me. It's not like I have a lot of family I kept in contact with back at home. My parents are gone, so it's not like they're worrying anymore..." I trailed off, deciding just to keep my mouth shut and write in my journal some more. I was glad that I wasn't a nuisance to Yuri anymore...I enjoyed talking to him.

"Petral, I can trust you to be honest, can I?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Do you think I am still the person I was? Even just a little bit?"

I looked at him, doing everything in my power to make him know I was being completely serious.

"No...the man who idolized Makarov would not have carried me across a battlefield, or have risked his life to save me from a grenade explosion. That man would not have given everything just to kill Makarov."

"You think this even though I did not tell you I knew him? That I kept it a secret for so long?"

"Yes."

He turned his head slightly to one side, as if studying me, before slowly taking his gaze away from mine, nodding ever so slightly as if finally understanding something he had sought to answer for so long.

Without saying a word, he returned to his knife, leaving the chopper silent once more. I returned to my journal and continued to write, my mind never straying from our conversation, or his ever-riveting past.

**DISCLAIMER: The song that Yuri was singing is called "Katyusha", a Russian wartime song composed by Mantvei Blanter in 1938.**

**A/N: This was mostly a filler chapter, but as usual, I thank everyone who has stuck with this story up to this point, and to everyone who has left me such great feedback. I appreciate every single one of you! If anyone has any questions, concerns, etc, feel free to ask them in a review, or in a message.**


	12. Hostage Situation

**The following excerpt was taken from Yuri's journal. While undated, its content suggests that it was written only days after the airport massacre, and translated into English.**

_I can no longer sleep at night, knowing what I could have prevented sooner. I do not blame myself for this, but I cannot get the vision out of my mind. I am torn with anxiety attacks each night, and when I am able to sleep, my nightmares are frequent. _

_It was not my fault, but I can feel that God has turned his back on me. Who am I but a naive young boy, stupid enough to glorify a monster? Why should God be concerned about me, when in all reality, I should have died a few days ago anyway?_

_It was not my fault, but I could have prevented it. But nobody knows this. Nobody knows that I was the right-hand man of the most dangerous man in the world. Nikolai welcomes me into his team, only knowing I had briefly been involved with ultranationalist affairs and soon left for clear reasons. That is enough for him. I am just another face, another soldier fighting for my country, and for the rest of the world. _

_I will go to the cemetery one last time tonight to say my goodbyes to my son. Viktoriya...I am so, so sorry. It was not right of me to leave you so alone, and to have never married you. I will return, if you have forgiven me by then, and I will tell you everything that you deserve to know._

**Soon after joining the Loyalists, Yuri receives information that Viktoriya had gotten caught in a crossfire during a raid in Prague, and died at the local hospital.**

Chapter 12: Hostage Situation (Through the POV of Lt. Petral Levark)

We were due to meet Sandman in six hours. John's fever had gone down, it was at 104 last time I checked, but it was still too high for me to be comfortable with.

"John? John, c'mon, wake up. You need to eat. _John, c'mon. Wake up!"_

He stirred, and grumbled a bit in his sleep. Although I pitied the poor guy, I was half-tempted to kick him awake. Slowly, he opened his eyes and scowled.

"Why the hell was I asleep for so long?"

I grinned at him in relief. His obvious irritation meant that he was at least feeling somewhat better. Yuri seemed amused as well.

"You were asleep for so long because your fever reached 105, and you _should_ have been in a hospital. You're going to let me take your temperature now, and you're going to eat some bread, got it?"

He raised an eyebrow and glanced past me at Yuri, who was biting his lip in an effort not to grin.

"Well then. What the lady says goes. But I'm not bloody hungry. God...I feel like shite..."

He stood up, too quickly, and staggered. I gripped his arm tightly to steady him.

"Hey, hey, hey, take it easy! Jeez. Just sit down..."

He rolled his eyes, and tried to walk again. It was almost funny had I not felt so bad for him. He could barely ten steps before nearly toppling over. It was almost amusing, considering that I was in a very similar position only a couple of months ago. This time he gave up and allowed me to sit him down with a glass of water.

"Here, if you're so angry, take your own temperature."

I tossed him the thermometer and waited as he put it under his tongue, scowling like a child. After a moment, it beeped.

"I'm at 102."

I sighed. "Alright...that's still higher than what I'm comfortable with, but it's going down. We plan on meeting Sandman in six hours for the mission. Fever or not, you have to come with us. You briefly discussed it with Sandman the night of our escape, right?"

He nodded. "I'll bloody well have to be. What about you? Do you think you'll be able to do the mission?"

I frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I thought your knees were shattered."

"I'm fine now. It was a small chip in the bone, it just hurt like hell and made it seem like it was a lot worse than it actually was. I can walk now, and by tomorrow, I'll be able to run without much pain."

John nodded, running a hand through his hair. I noticed he did that a lot when he was anxious...and we had a lot to be anxious about.

"I worry this may put our mission in jeopardy," Yuri pointed out, moving to sit closer to us. "If John's still sick, and you aren't fully mobile, how would we be a working addition to this mission?"

Frustrated, John spoke up.

"We can't just leave Sandman to do it on his own. We don't have a choice."

"What about MacMillian and his men over in Britain?"

"Busy. We can't ask them to do anything right now, not with them so preoccupied with the war back at home. No, this is a mission for us and Delta."

Yuri didn't respond.

"I suppose you're right.." he said after a moment. "I just worry that we'd end up doing more harm than good."

"This mission will not be a failure. Alena _will_ come back alive with us. We cannot allow ourselves to fail another mission."

I nodded in agreement, glad his unrelenting determination wasn't torn down by the fact that he wasn't exactly in any position to go and get shot at any time soon. I always amazed myself at my surprise. Captain Price was not a quitter. He expected a lot from Yuri and I, and in return, we expected a lot from him.

I made a vow to myself a long time ago that I was never going to leave him, unless he made it clear to me that he no longer needed me around, or that I was no longer doing any good to our small team. I knew my feelings for him would never be returned, but the more logical part of me knew it was for the best. While I couldn't help but feel sad sometimes when we weren't out fighting, I knew that my close friendship with him is more than what I could have asked for.

And really, he wasn't one to show any kind of emotion like that. Unless he was blatantly pissed off or anxious, sometimes I felt like that's all he was capable of.

But I knew that wasn't true. He was a human being, just like Yuri, and just like me. He had emotions that I've seen him exhibit, when his years of discipline and hiding emotions would crack and come up to the surface. Times when he couldn't help it. That's when I knew this man was the most amazing man I had ever met.

"John...do you remember what I told you right after...right after Captain MacTavish died?" Yuri asked hesitantly, suddenly interrupting my thoughts.

John looked up and shook his head. "No..."

"There was someone over the comms. I think your earpiece had been knocked off in the explosion when he had spoken. But he was British, just like you, and he knew your name. It wasn't MacMillain, I did not recognize this man's voice. He had said that he was working for the nationalists, but that you seemed to think him dead."

John looked at him. "I remember you telling me this. But I have no goddamn clue who it could be. Whoever it is, they're lying. No men of mine would become a bloody traitor on me."

Yuri shook his head slowly. "He sounded so anxious, like he was about to bloody cry or something...it sounded like he was trying to sound confident and boastful...but he sounded scared. Are you sure?"

Price glared at him. "Of course I'm sure. It's one of Makarov's bastards trying to play mind games with us. And what you're doing is letting him win. Jesus Christ Yuri, I thought you knew him better than-"

I shot him a warning glance and he quickly broke off, knowing it would be unwise to continue. Yuri stared at him, unblinking, as if challenging him to say another word.

"I'm done talking about it!" he snapped angrily.

"But John, what if Yuri's right? How can we know that for sure?"

He glared at me, and for the first time, I felt myself shrinking from his gaze. Because there wasn't just anger there. He was hurt.

"None of my men would ever-"

He stopped, gritting his teeth together.

"I had one man. One man who was a traitor. His name was Shepard. Soap killed him a while back...but he was the only one. The only one...no one else would dare become so vile."

"What if they're not a traitor necessarily...what if they were captured and Makarov is just using them as bait? Torturing them, or threatening something we don't know about."

He looked furious.

"This is _exactly_ what Makarov wants. He wants us go get anxious and overthink things. We can't let that happen for God's sake! Everyone I know is dead, there is _no one left alive for Makarov to get ahold of. _Understand?"

We stayed quiet, not wanting to press it further. I figured he was right...

Price briefly explained what was going on with the hostage situation over in Siberia. Makarov was trying to obtain the launch codes of nuclear missiles from the Russian president, with which he could use to blow all of Europe sky-high. He was currently holding the president and his daughter, Alena, hostage in a large diamond mine. That's why this mission was so crucial. If we couldn't save the girl, all we had to hope for was the president not losing his nerve.

But what was it like to lose a son or daughter? That was a kind of pain I couldn't imagine.

So we didn't even consider the possibility. Alena would be safe by the end of tonight.

But we had nothing to do but prepare for the mission while we waited. Nikolai had received a new weaponry shipment for his men, and some of the supplies he was able to spare to give to us. New pistols, Ak-47's, MP-40's. I noticed the scratched up pistol in John's belt, the one that never left his side unless he was using it to shoot. Nikolai recommended replacing it, but John refused.

That pistol, John told me that day, was the one that while he laid dying on the ground, had slid over to Soap in the nick of time to bring down Zhakaev. When John had been taken as a prisoner, the first thing Soap did when he found him was give it back. The pistol had seen a lot of history between the two, and John refused to part with it.

After hours of boredom, the time came.

"We're landing now," Nikolai told us through our earpieces. "Get ready. Sandman sent me the exact coordinates of where his men are located. We will be landing in ten minutes, but I will have to leave immediately in fear of attracting unwanted attention."

We gathered our weaponry and quickly topped off our guns. I tried not to let John's hacking cough make me too anxious.

The helicopter touched down and we jumped off, making our way immediately into the massive, abandoned complex where Sandman and his team were waiting. Snow covered the ground, and a light wind blew across the frigid landscape. It was sunny, but the sun provided very little warmth, and I shivered in my uniform. Just as Nikolai took off, another helicopter came into sight.

I examined the landscape. Large buildings stood next to one another, blocking off the diamond mine that was on the other side of the huge hill their presence seemed to guard. Huge walls, topped with barbed wire, filled the gaps between them. The only way to reach the entrance to the diamond mine was going up through, and to the top of one of the buildings, or right through the front gate, which we knew wasn't a good idea. And, our chopper was more than likely to be spot down if we tried to land right inside.

"Heads up old man, we're on our way," a voice I recognized as Sandman's said into our earpieces.

"Roger. We see you. You got your whole team?" Price responded.

"Yeah, everyone's with me today."

The helicopter landed, and five men jumped out as it took off again. I recognized Sandman and Frost from earlier on, but not the other men. One of them, I did notice, looked very young, possibly new to their team.

Just as the helicopter took off, we heard shouting from inside the building. We took position as a somewhat large group of men came storming out, guns at the ready. Having the advantage of numbers, we took them out easily, and the one sniper they had at the top window.

"Get inside, there's bound to be more!" John yelled. We stormed inside the door, kicking aside empty boxes and chairs. Silence. We looked around, but no shouts or gunfire came from the other rooms on this floor. The entire place was barren, and filthy. It was dark from lack of windows, and I saw a few of Sandman's men shift uneasily where they stood, murmuring amongst one another.

"We need to get to the top floor. From there, we should be able to clear out this building and reach the mine entrance."

As we followed Sandman out into the hall, one of his men hung back to walk beside me. He was the younger one I had seen before, the one I had presumed was newer to the team.

"Hey there. Ah, you're Petral, right?"

I nodded, curious at his sudden interest. "Yup."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, miss. You can call me Grinch."

I nodded, and gave him a small smile. "Will do, Grinch."

He grinned boyishly. "I think we should definitely keep in touch once this is all over, eh?"

"I can hear you back there, Grinch. Eyes front, or _you _can clean out the basement once we get back to base, got it?" Sandman said angrily from up front.

I chuckled. Grinch rolled his eyes, and went to walk beside Frost, who looked equally as irritated. Poor kid. Maybe he did this often. I swore I heard John snicker from up beside Sandman.

We crept down the eerily silent hallway, not daring to make a sound above a whisper. We stopped at a corner, listening closely. Voices. Sandman motioned for us to stay still as they grew closer. He nodded at John, and together, the two of them dashed behind the corner. Brief shouts, the sound of choking, then a grunt of disgust before Sandman and John came back around, pulling two dead bodies with them and shoving them into a closet.

"Move up."

We turned the corner and moved down the next hallway. It seemed like this building served as nothing more than a defense mechanism against the diamond mine, seeing as this hallways was just as dark and barren as the one before it.

And cold. Freezing cold, to the point where I was shivering.

We moved down the hall, and came up to an elevator that could take us to the top floor.

"This bloody thing doesn't look like it's gonna work..."

John tried pushing the "up" button, and to our surprise, we heard the familiar sound of the elevator descending. The doors opened, and we stepped inside. It was large, large enough to fit all of us. As the doors shut behind us, Sandman turned to speak to all of us.

"The upstairs is going to be heavily guarded. Guns aimed at the door, and take cover as soon as you can find it."

We nodded, and got ready. Yuri was standing close enough where he was just brushing my shoulder as he loaded his rifle. I gave him a small smile of encouragement, which he returned.

"This thing go any faster?" Grinch complained.

"Easy, Grinch. We're about to face some heavy fire. Top off your rifles."

We crouched down, and aimed at the door as the rickety elevator came to a halt.

As the doors opened, we saw numerous men standing in the dark room. At the sight of us, they began shouting, and soon bullets were rocketing past my head. The eight of us opened fire, taking out the majority of the men in the room.

I saw one man lift up something large, and aim it right at us. It took me a second to realize what it was, but by the time I opened my mouth to warn the others, Frost had already beaten me to it:

"_RPG!"_

The RPG erupted above us, causing a deafening roar to wrack my eardrums. I felt the elevator plummet down three floors, crashing to the bottom. My head slammed against the floor, and I heard the others around me cry out in pain and shock.

It was over in less than ten seconds. I groaned as I pushed myself up to my knees, trying to blink away the bursts of light from my vision. Everything hurt, but nothing felt broken.

"Status!" Sandman yelled out.

Groans and grumbles of "Good" and "fucking fantastic" came from around the elevator, but no one was seriously injured. Familiar angry shouts came from just down the hall, and immediately we snapped back into focus, getting ready for the onslaught of gunfire.

It was almost completely dark, so we had to use our nightgoggles. I quickly slipped mine on, grateful that I was able to see more clearly. I immediately took down three men from where I was crouching. We moved up, taking cover behind the piles of boxes that littered the wide, dark hallway.

"We've gotta get to the stairs!" John yelled into our earpieces.

We managed to push our way around the corner and up another hallway where several more men were waiting. We took them out, and moved up to the stairway.

Quickly making sure we were all together, Sandman led us up the stairs, flight after flight. We were met with light resistance, but none of our team were badly injured to the point of being unable to move. Soon, we reached the roof overlooking the diamond mine.

The area was massive. Buildings and multiple entrances underground were everywhere, as were numerous amounts of patrol guards. As soon as we climbed onto the roof, the men below began firing. We ducked low, myself going prone on the snow, and tried to find a way down into the mine.

"There's trucks, just to our right!" I yelled into my earpiece. "If we can get down there, we can take cover and move forward."

A pause, and then: "I see them, Levark. Everyone, on me! Stay low and head for the trucks! Do not get separated!"

Ducking low, we hopped down to the lower part of the roof and jumped down, hitting the ground hard and almost causing me to lose my balance. I scrambled towards the trucks, quickly glancing around to make sure we were all here. From our spot, we were much less vulnerable and were able to move up towards the buildings.

It was still one of the most dangerous missions I had ever been on, since we had the whole patrol guard alerted to our presence. Explosions from grenades and RPGs erupted around us, and soon my back was pressed against the brick wall of one of the small buildings. I was beginning to cough now, the combination of the frigid air and the smell of gunpowder not really making it easy on my lungs.

Almost out of nowhere, one of the patrol turned the corner, rifle raised high, ready to strike me down. I was faster. I lunged at him, tackling him to the ground, causing the rifle to fly from his hands. Knowing this wasn't going to be pleasant, I grabbed my knife and plunged it into his throat, finishing the job quickly. I grimaced in disgust, wiping the blood off my face and ducking behind the wall once more as we prepared to move up.

"Quick thinking, Levark, I might have to start calling you Striker from now on!" Sandman called out to me over the roar of gunfire.

Striker. I could live with that. Even if it did sound a bit silly.

We moved up again, aiming for the mine entrance about a hundred meters away. The entire mine was alerted to our presence now, and getting down below was vital. We knew we'd only run into more resistance there, but time was running out for Alena and President Vorchvesky.

I wondered how old she was. Did she know help was on the way?

"Truck, grab that RPG and take out that incoming vehicle!"

Truck was tall, and very muscular. He grabbed the RPG, hoisted it on his shoulder, and took a steady aim at the vehicle. It went off, sending the vehicle into rocketing chunks of flying metal and car parts, along with the men that had been inside it.

No one could deny it. It was kinda cool.

With the vehicle out of the way, we advanced towards the entrance of the mine, and towards the hostages that were no doubt waiting terrified inside.

**POV of Alena Vorchevsky**

**Location: Siberia**

"Alena...?"

I blinked slowly, the dark room around me coming back into view. Had I fallen asleep? Or was I ever even awake in the first place? That was my father. My father's voice.

"Father!" I called out, panicked. The memories came suddenly. The needle. The kind, soft voice telling me that my father was going to give up the launch codes.

_No. Not this again. Please, anything but this._

Psychological torture was the worst they had ever done to me so far.

"_You are not my father you bastard!" _I snarled, fighting against the straps holding me to my chair, knowing it was useless. The voice in my ear again.

"Alena, it's okay."

I screamed. I don't know how many times I've screamed over the course of three weeks. But I screamed as loudly as I possibly could. Maybe I could burst their eardrums and they would finally leave me alone. Go back to their knives, or whatever else they had.

The beating I could handle. The knives I could handle. This was too much. I wanted to throw up, my head hurt, yet the voice was still there no matter how hard I screamed.

"Alena."

"Forty seconds until launch, Alena."

"_Just stop it! Stop it! Leave me alone! Why can't you just leave me alone? LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

**A/N: Just a quick note: I know Frost was not involved in the actual mission. For this story's sake, I'm choosing to leave him in. Another note, I'm leaving Alena's bit up to your imagination as to how they are using this certain form of psychological torture on her, and as to why it is driving her out of her mind. **


	13. One Step Closer to Hell

Chapter 13: One Step Closer to Hell (POV of Lt. Petral Levark)

"Lets go, move move _move!_"

Together, we ran towards the tunnel entrance. I did a quick mental scan of our group, confirming that everyone was still together. John was running right beside me, directly in front of us was Sandman and Frost. Gunfire and explosions erupted in a frenzy of sound behind us as we made our way deeper into the mine. The frigid air tore at my lungs, and I found myself coughing as we descended underground. As expected, it wasn't much warmer.

The tunnel underground had a low ceiling, and there was just enough light to be able to see. John immediately spotted a door at the end of the zig-zagging corridor.

"Yuri, take care of the door!"

With the rest of us close behind, Yuri ran ahead and kicked down the door, gun raised.

"Hold your fire!" Grinch warned. "It's the girl!"

We hurried inside the large room. Alena Vorchevsky sat alone on a wooden chair, looking completely wild-eyed and beaten. Cuts and bruises almost completely covered her swollen face, and her eyes darted wildly. She looked wide awake, but didn't even make a notion of recognition when John gently lifted her out of the chair, and cradled her like a small child in his arms. He quickly set her down on the table, and contacted Nikolai.

Overcome with pity, I wish I had the time to at least lessen her pain before she was taken out of here. She was perhaps a few years younger than I was, and looked like she would have been very pretty at one point. My pity soon turned to hate towards the Russians. More than ever, I was ready to kill. Slowly, the girl seemed to come back to reality. Her eyes softened, and tears of gratitude poured down her face and she began speaking quickly in Russian.

"She says her father was taken deeper into the mine," Yuri translated. "Nikolai can bring her to safety, yes?"

John nodded quickly, and relayed the information to Nikolai.

Sandman spoke into his earpiece. "Overlord, this is Sandman. We've secured the girl, but the president is still being held hostage somewhere in the mine."

A pause, and then: "Copy, Overlord, Sandman out. McCoy! Stay here with the girl until she is secure. We're going after the president. Let's go!"

We ran out of the room, leaving McCoy behind with Alena. Making a sharp right turn, we reached the entrance of a massive quarry that went hundreds of yards deep, and high. Spanning across it's width was a metal bridge, and men ready to defend it.

"Men on the bridge!" I yelled. We dove behind cover and took them out. When the bridge was clear, we advanced forward.

"We're going down. Rappels on the ready!" John yelled.

_Shit. Of everything I've had to do so far, I think I hate rappelling the most._

Heights in general didn't agree with me, but I didn't have much time to stress over it. Our team went to opposite ends of the bridge, and hooked out rappels to the side. I gripped the rope tightly, my knuckles turning white, and I hopped over the side and slid down.

I had never had to do this from so high, but I refused to let any fear show on my face. Biting my lip, we went further and further down. I couldn't believe how far deep this mine went.

To my relief, out feet finally touched down before I really started hyperventilating. I didn't have time to enjoy it.

"We've got company!" John yelled. We ran to cover. The room was huge, and had a lot of places to take cover behind. This was useful for us, but also made it hard to find what e we were supposed to be shooting at.

"Yuri, to your right!" I yelled in warning. He spun around quickly, driving the butt of his rifle into his attacker's face. I exhaled in relief.

It was things like this that made realize how quickly a life could be taken here. And what could we do if Yuri died? Or, as much as it scared me to think, John? Nothing. We'd move on and carry out the mission. Life was expendable out here. I had accepted that a long time ago, but it still unnerved me to think of it that way.

But that wasn't going to happen. Their lives meant too much to me. Maybe I shouldn't be thinking that way, definitely not down here as I take down yet another soldier, but I felt like it gave a whole other purpose to why I was fighting. They were the only ones I had left.

_Stop with the sappy crap, Petral, focus!_

Just ahead, I saw the familiar, large weapon hosted on the shoulder of one if the Russians. It was an RPG, aimed right at Sandman.

"_Sandman get down! RPG!"_

He dove out of the way just in time. I took out the man welding the RPG before he could fire it again. Jumping to his feet, he motioned for us to follow him. We weaved around walls, and through another tunnel, before finally reaching our destination.

A steel door between two short staircases stood before us. The staircases led to a landing above the room that the door led to, that could take us deeper into the mine. But the president was just behind this door...

"Reinforced steel...we can't blow through it," John pointed out, sounding frustrated.

I looked up at the landing then at Sandman's team. I had a really stupid idea that just might work.

"Sandman, are you and your team carrying charges on you?"

"Yeah, but there's no way they're gonna blow through this steel."

"But they'll blow through wood, won't they?"

He looked at me oddly.

"Follow me!" I instructed. Slightly to my surprise, they followed me up the steps and onto the landing.

"Put charges here, here, there, and over there."

They finally seemed to realize what I was planning. We would get into that room through the ceiling. No one seemed to object, in fact, John seemed to like it. We planted the rest of the charges, and stood right in the center.

"Ready?" Sandman yelled, clutching the detonator in his hand.

We were ready. I took a deep breath. Explosions erupted around me, and suddenly, I was falling. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. I remembered hitting the ground hard, crying out in pain as my knees buckled. I snapped back into action and brought the end of my rifle into the soldier nearest to me, finishing him with a bullet to the head. Around me, John, Yuri, and Sandman's team finished off the rest of the soldiers.

President Vorchevsky sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Like his daughter, he looked beaten and badly hurt, but still alive. Speaking in English, he thanked us and asked about Alena, clearly fearing the worse. We assured him she was safe and secure.

"Overlord, this is Sandman, the president is secure, I repeat, the president is secure...we're on our way!"

He turned to us. "We're heading to the LZ! Keep the president covered, we're getting out of here!"

Triumph overcame me, but I told myself to save the celebration for later- we weren't safe yet. We unlocked the doors and made our way towards the massive opening where Sandman's pilot was going to pick us up.

But we had company. Big company. More men were here than in any other place we've been in since we arrived. In less than two minutes, we had RPGs roaring past us, and gunfire raging around us.

Above us, the sun shone brightly, but none of it's warmth seemed to reach us from down here. Not to me, anyway, with my back pressed against a wall, my hair in my face, and my gun pressed to my chest. I couldn't even leave my position to fire.

"Overlord, the LZ is too heated! We're getting pinned down out here!" Sandman yelled from about fifteen yards away. I dashed from my cover, firing at a group of soldiers shooting from a position up above us. I was aware of the helicopter hovering above us. RPGs fired at the descending helicopter, but none hit their target.

As I moved to run back to my cover, that's when I saw him: Yuri. One minute, he was standing, firing at the enemies before us. Then I watched as an RPG hit the wall, too close, and explode. Shrapnel flew everywhere, burying itself in Yuri's skin. He yelled out in pain, staggering backwards, before crumpling to the ground. Behind us, the helicopter landed. It was time to go.

I dashed over to Yuri, trying to hoist him up without injuring him further. He groaned in pain, and was bleeding heavily from his side where the shrapnel had torn through his skin.

"You're gonna be alright...you're gonna be alright..."

Chunks of debris were falling from the walls now. The whole place was about to collapse as RPGs exploded everywhere. Time seemed to slow as Hell was raising around us.

_"Yuri! Yuri!" _John screamed. The president was on the helicopter now. John ran over to me, and helped me drag Yuri onto the helicopter.

"Sandman, let's go! It's time to leave!"

"Just go! Get him onto the chopper!"

Yuri was bleeding heavily now, and unable to lift his gun. I clenched my teeth together, focusing on nothing but getting Yuri to safety.

"You'd better be right behind me!" John yelled. I looked up. Sandman and his men were standing together, firing at the never-ending onslaught of men before us. This wasn't happening. We weren't going to leave them behind.

We reached the chopper, and almost immediately, it began to take off. _No! They're still down there!_

_"Sandman, let's go!"_

_This isn't happening. This can't happen._

_"Sandman!" _I heard myself scream.

"Just go!" He yelled back. The helicopter took off into the sky. Explosions erupted around us. The team stood together, none of them even trying to get to safety. They were a team, and none of them were about to leave the others behind, not even Grinch. Young, youthful Grinch who was just as determined and ready to fight as the rest of us.

They got smaller and smaller as the helicopter climbed higher and higher. Explosions erupted around us as the mine began to cave in on itself.

"_Get us back down there!" _John screamed at the pilot. I whipped my head towards the cockpit, prepared to go in there myself and do what needed to be done to rescue the team stranded down there.

"No! We go back there, we all die!"

The helicopter was completely in the air now. I watched in horror as the mine collapsed, burying everything that laid inside. I was numb. _This_ _could not be happening._

"_Sandman, do you copy?!"_ John yelled into his earpiece.

Silence.

"Sandman, _come in!"_

Nothing. They were gone. And, with my head buried in my hands, I knew John was too.

Yuri. I had to tend to Yuri.

"John. You're gonna have to help me with this. Apply pressure where it's bleeding heavily there and there."

He lifelessly did as I said. I tore through our medic bag, grabbing a syringe of morphine. This wasn't going to pleasant for Yuri. Might as well help in any way I could.

"We're gonna need to remove some of the skin here and here...he has tiny pieces of shrapnel stuck in his skin that are gonna be hard to get out, but it's these big pieces I'm most worried about. I'm going to need a scalpel and tweezers."

It took me over an hour and a half to remove all the broken shrapnel, stitch him back up, and apply disinfectant. It wasn't a painless process for him, but it had to be done. Pale and very worn-looking, Yuri managed a small smile.

"Saving my life again, Petral? When will I ever stop owing you?"

I laughed softly, mopping up the sweat that had gathered on his brow. I felt like a mother tending to her child, and suddenly, I felt very protective of Yuri.

There was no need to, of course. Yuri was a deadly sniperman with years of military training, and could probably throw a grown man across a room with two broken arms. But as he laid here in burning pain with bandages wrapped across multiple places on his body and barely able to speak above a whisper, he looked very childlike and innocent.

"You don't owe me anything, Yuri," I said softly.

To ease his suffering, I gave him something to help him sleep. John was sitting with his head buried in his hands, completely silent. I didn't want to try and talk to him- there was nothing left to say.

So we sat. We waited. The president was restless- he was unable to relax completely until he was able to physically see that his daughter was alive and well. We planned to meet Nikolai down in Prague where the president and Alena could go to a hospital and deal with the matters from there. The war was ending now. Talks of peace were spreading down to the United States, and across Europe. We had been very out of the loop, always in the chopper, moving from mission to mission, that we hadn't realized that many countries had begun to draw out of the war. But that meant little to us. Makarov was still alive.

Something had changed today. We lost Soap before, but now we lost Sandman and his entire team. We were the only ones left for this now. And it had to be finished. There was nothing else to lean on from here. We'd carry on.

About an hour later, John suddenly seemed to snap awake. He stared, away from me, at the wall as if trying to decide something. A dark, angry glare crossed his face.

"John, what is it?" I asked, a bit worried. He didn't respond. Instead, he stood up and walked over to the communications radio. Syncing it with our earpieces, he began fiddling around with the radio until he reached the station that he needed.

"Keep quiet," he told me without looking at me. I frowned.

"Look, whatever your trying to do, just tell me-"

"Just _don't speak._ Got it?"

I scowled in his direction. "Fine."

He switched the radio on. A ringing noise, just like the kind you hear when waiting for someone to answer a telephone, sounded through my earpiece. Confused, I waited. After a moment, a voice sounded on the other line.

"Hello?"

My blood ran ice-cold. I had heard that voice once in my life, and once was enough to never forget it. Thin and reedy, with a Russian accent, was the voice of Vladimir Makarov. I stared at John in shock. What the hell was he doing?

"It's Prisoner 6-2-7," John answered quietly, his face blank. "I'm coming for you, Makarov."

Makarov chuckled softly. "Haven't you heard, Captain Price? The war is over."

"My war ends with you."

Goosebumps ran up my arms. I wanted to scream at this man for everything he'd taken away from me, from John, and from so many people. The lives he had destroyed, the suffering he was responsible for. But I bit my lip and kept silent.

"Like the way it ended for Captain MacTavish? Tell me, Price, how long did it take for him to die?"

John's face drained of color. I clenched my teeth together, fighting the urge to scream. This wasn't fair.

"I've destroyed your world piece by piece. What's left for you to lose?"

John didn't answer.

"What about the woman on your dying team, Captain Price? Do you care for her? Does her life mean as much as your own?"

"You won't touch her," John said blankly, as if stating the obvious. Makarov chuckled again.

"Thank you for calling, Captain. I hope to see you very soon."

The line went dead. I was helpless to watch as John angrily threw his earpiece onto the ground, and retreat to the corner of the tiny helicopter. He buried his head in his hands once again, and was quiet.

"John. Look at me," I said softly.

He looked up, staring me straight in the face.

"We're going to kill him. You know that. We haven't lost this war yet. He's still out there."

"Yeah. I know."

I nodded. "Good."

"He _will not_ take anymore lives. I don't care what it takes. He is_ done_."

I was relieved. He wasn't going to give up. Of course not. He never would. But for now, all we could do was wait.

*****_**Three months later***_

The war was over, but we didn't stop. How could we?

No. It wasn't over for us. Not yet. Not until he was dead.

So we traveled. By chopper. By vehicle. Sometimes on foot. We chased Makarov across the globe for three months, seeing very little action in our travels. Yuri, despite the Loyalists withdraw from the war, remained with us, as expected.

I came to realize something in our travels. Something I had never really considered before. It was terrifying to think about, but yet so amazing as to how true it was.

You could be the leader of the world's most powerful military. You could posses the most advanced technology. You could have millions of supporters, cheering your name and saluting your flag. You could have whole countries on your side, and come from the richest family. Go to the finest military school. But in the end, none of it matters. Not really.

Changing the course of history, I realized, is relatively simple.

All it takes is the will of a single man.


	14. Take My Hand

.**Chapter 14: Take My Hand:**

**(Counterpoint: Lt. Petral Levark **_**and**_** Cpt. John Price)**

"_History is written by the victors." -General Shepard _

**-John-**

_Do you really plan on destroying my entire world, Makarov? You've gotten so far. I'll give you that._

You've taken my men, my best friend, my team. My allies and my dignity. You had your men take me and strip me of my identity. I was no longer a man. I was "Prisoner 627". I lived off of bread scraps and cheese for five years. But you didn't break me. Oh, you came so close. But you didn't succeed.

My best friend found me. He had taken the team I had lost and built it back up again. He became a leader. He saved my life, and the little FNG I made fun of all those years ago grew into a bloody hero.

And then you took his life, along with the millions of others who were slaughtered at your hand. How many more do you plan on killing, Makarov? The war is over, but you're far from done, aren't you? It's not like you to just stop. I guess that makes us pretty well alike, doesn't it?

But you made a mistake. You didn't give me a reason to stop fighting. I have something to live for. I want you dead. I want you to choke on your own blood as the light vanishes from your eyes. If you're as smart as you seem to be, you won't give me time to make you feel it.

But as much as I wish I could, I can't possibly make you feel the pain and suffering that millions of people have endured at your hand. That would take time. And time is not something that I have.

And you know what else? I want her safe. That woman on my broken team. You destroyed her home, didn't you? Killed her parents and family. She wants you dead as much as I do. Maybe I'll die today, Makarov. I'll die right along with you, and the devil himself will welcome us at the gates of Hell. But _she_ will live today, even if I have to carry her back to Prague with two broken legs. Have you ever loved a woman, Makarov? Enough that you're entire push forward has split it's meaning?

I've always thought that all I ever wanted was for you to die, and don't worry, that's still going to happen today. But I have another reason, and that is to _keep her breathing._ I may be a bloody idiot, but I have loved a woman, Makarov, and it's a whole other bloody war that's almost as hard to fight as the one you've forced upon us.

But this last struggle? This is for Soap. This is for Sandman. This is for my fallen men. This is for me. Blood to blood, man to man.

_Dust to dust._

Yuri and Petral loaded their guns. I loaded mine. Had this been almost a year ago, I don't think Petral would have been able to hold the heavy machine gun that went along with our armor. Now she held it almost with ease. Bullets were hammering against the protective metal encasing from the outside, causing the whole landing pod we were sitting in to shake. The juggernaut suits we were wearing only made the tiny, enclosed space even more cramped.

"Are you sure these suits will hold?" Yuri yelled over the roar. Petral looked up. She looked anxious, but that wide-eyed look of determination had settled over her face. She was prepared for this. Nodding at me, she put her helmet on and crouched at the ready.

"They'll buy us some time!"

Nikolai, who was circling in the chopper somewhere above us, spoke through our comms.

"Makarov is in the atrium, on the third floor. But he'll be on the move as soon as he knows you three are coming!"

"Makarov doesn't leave here alive. Let's move."

They were ready. I unlocked the doors, and kicked them outward, unleashing a frenzy of bullets on our initial attackers. They dropped, and we pressed forward. I was never keen on wearing these suits. You couldn't move much faster than a jog, but I knew it was necessary, especially here. The hotel was incredibly well-guarded.

We pushed our way down the street. To my relief, neither Petral or Yuri fell behind. They were equally as deadly, at least as far as gun handling went, and the suits were holding out well so far as we made our way to the hotel entrance. Beside me, Yuri took out three snipers in the third floor window. Petral took out four by the doors. The suits were holding out well, but I knew it was only a matter of time before we faced even heavier fire.

It didn't take long to make it inside, but the situation did not get any easier. Our suits forced us to move painfully slow, and the men were shooting at us from all sides. Grenades exploded only about fifteen in front of us. But we held our ground.

"Hostiles, on the escalators!" Nikolai warned.

We quickly shifted our sights upwards, taking out the dozen men up above. I could feel the gunfire against my suit and my helmet, but the armor held strong.

"Watch out!" I heard Petral yell over the comms. "Civilians incoming, hold your fire!"

Had this been a normal mission, we would have most likely stopped and directed the screaming, frightened civilians to safety. But time was not on our side. This mission was a race against the clock.

We ducked behind cover, and made our way to the escalators once they passed. We were now on the second floor.

"Nikolai, we're gonna need control of those lifts!" I yelled over a grenade exploding, almost too close. I watched Yuri dive out of the way of three men with riot shields, and hurl an explosive their way. Petral knocked another two men to the ground with the butt of her rifle. We had to get out of here.

Women, men, and children ran screaming, some injured, some dying before my eyes. In all my years of being in the service, that was never something I could ever stomach without looking away.

"I've got it! Sending the elevators to your floor now!"

Stepping over a cluster of bodies I didn't want to look at, we raced towards the lifts. I could hear my pulse thudding in my ears. I was running on pure adrenaline. The last time I felt this powerful was fighting General Shepard, knowing Soap was slowly dying not four meters away.

"Makarov's moved to the fourth floor! He's got a whole bout of security with him, assault rifles, one RPG, and over a dozen gunmen. And...I'm picking up one unidentified body. I can't tell who it is. From here, it looks like Makarov's got a prisoner with him!"

_Prisoner. _

Yuri's voice suddenly echoed in my head:

_He said he knew you._

_He sounded like he was about to bloody cry or something._

"Nikolai, _who is it?!"_

The lifts were going up. I feel Petral's eyes on me, even though her face was obscured by her helmet. Silence for only a second.

"Price. It's Simon."

"Simon?! Who the bloody hell is Si-"

I could feel my blood run ice-cold. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I nearly dropped my gun. _Simon. Simon. Simon "Ghost" Riley._

He was alive. Somehow, he was alive. "I've spotted two enemy choppers, one's heading for the roof! I think it's going for Makarov."

"We need to take that one out!" I screamed. We aimed our weapons at the chopper and fired. The glass shattered, but we remained focused on the helicopter that was now launching missiles at us, missing us by only exploded around us, sending chunks of rubble flying. With a loud _whirrr!_, the chopper burst into flames and began to fall.

"Good work!" I yelled to Petral and Yuri.

The chopper was falling...falling right for us. It smashed into the lift, sending us tumbling to the ground, and sending debris flying everywhere. My head slammed into something hard as a wave of vertigo washed over me. I was vaguely aware of someone screaming, and my helmet cracking down the middle. My consciousness flickered. I felt my vision blur.

_Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay-_

I opened my eyes. Someone was on fire. It was Petral. She frantically ripped off her suit, tossing the armor over the side of the building, leaving her in just her uniform. Yuri yanked me to my feet, helping me discard my suit that was on fire in some places.

"The armor's shredded!" Petral yelled in frustration. There was something off about her voice. I realized she was speaking out loud, not into her earpiece. It had shattered. I blinked, finally regaining full control of my senses.

"Nikolai, can you hear me?!" I yelled into mine, praying it still worked.

"Da. I'm sending another lift your way. Be ready, Makarov is heading for the roof!"

I let out a huff of breath in relief. It didn't last long. The lift jerked, threatening to send us hurtling down four floors. I whipped my head around. The other lift had arrived.

"_JUMP!"_

We lept across the dizzying drop to the next lift. Yuri went first, then Petral. As I went to make the dive, my foot slipped, and I came up short. Unable to grab ahold of anything, I slammed into the side of the lift and slid until I was dangling off the edge.

Letting out a yell of shock, I struggled to drag myself back to safety. In my terror, I was vaguely aware of a panicked-looking face coming into my vision.

"_Take my hand!" _Petral screamed.

Looking back now, I remembered that moment as the first time I felt I truly was able to see how much this girl had changed. I had cursed myself when she had first joined our team, wondering if I was making a really, really stupid mistake. She was a pretty girl with a fist of iron. I was the captain of a broken team, who needed all the help he could get. Maybe there is a God above, even though I couldn't bring myself to believe it nowadays. Maybe she was a sign from God, letting me know he does exist after all.

She wasn't the nervous, young girl I picked up from a safehouse in Afghanistan. With her black hair, now long and unkempt and always in her face, she was a true soldier. The kind you hoped to see in every man who went out to put his life in danger for his country and his world.

_And I can trust her._

I grabbed her hand, and she pulled me up to safety.

**-Petral-**

_I promised you. I will do anything to keep you safe. I promised you, you idiot, now take my hand!_

He did. For this split second, he was safe.

But safety is a precious, delicate thing. Safety is something we all take for granted, until it is taken away.

"He's heading for the restaurant! You've got to move!"

We sprinted back into the hotel, and dove for cover. We had company.

"Watch yourselves!" John yelled. "Your armor's gone!"

_Shit shit shit!_

I felt like a mouse in an open field. We were way too vulnerable without our armor, and with this much resistance hammering us down. I pressed my back against the wall', breathing heavy. Months ago, I would be panicking. I was scared, of course, but I was overcome with anger. I wanted to blow this entire hotel sky-high until there was nothing left. I bared my teeth, almost taking pleasure in the sound of the grenade explosion.

_Control yourself. You're not a monster._

"_Move up!"_

I charged forward. We were in the top lobby now. The noise of screams, hostiles and civilians, was numbing. I could block out every other emotion, except for my anger.

One hallway and down another. We killed everyone who stepped in front of me. Makarov was just ahead.

"_There he is! KILL HIM!" _Yuri screamed.

"_WATCH OUT FOR THAT CHOPPER!_

The split second of pure silence was deafening, right before the rockets came. Everything was a blur of fire, light, and sound. I felt myself being slammed against the ground, and for a moment, I thought of nothing but the overwhelming _pain._ I struggled to move, to _breathe, _to cry out.

_Don't let him get. Away. I can't _breathe...

I blinked away the fog. I pulled myself to my feet. I forced air into my lungs.

"_John!" _I screamed, frantically looking around. "_Yuri!"_

John emerged from a pile of rubble, bleeding heavily from a wound just above his ear. But I barely noticed. Yuri.

Yuri.

Yuri was laying on the ground, a long metal rod protruding from his chest. He coughed, and blood splattered on his already ruined uniform.

"_Go!_ _Do not let him get away!"_ he gasped, heaving in breaths.

Was I falling? Did the hotel collapse when the rockets hit, sending me into a freefall? My entire body felt like I was plummeting down forty floors, as I forced myself to look at Yuri's broken form, laying defenseless on the ground.

I couldn't move. If it hadn't been for John, yanking me roughly by the arm, I would have stayed there. Forever? Maybe.

I had no emotion left. I was numb. I didn't feel my lungs, like they were about to burst from exertion. I didn't feel the searing pain in my right calf, or the blood seeping through to my uniform. I was falling, and I didn't think I would ever be able to pick myself back up again.

We tore through the rubble. I was dimly aware of John's forceful grip on my arm. I didn't need it. In that moment, I was pure machine.

We made it to the roof of the hotel. A forceful wind tore at my hai, sending it flying in all directions. I realized it was from the chopper, descending onto the roof. And Makarov climbing inside.

"_Stay here!"_

I was awestruck. He charged forward. The helicopter went into the air, and he jumped onto the side pulling himself in. I couldn't see from where I was standing, but I was aware of the helicopter dipping and swaying dangerously. A body was thrown from the chopper. I couldn't move if I wanted to.

My fascination quickly turned to horror. Before I could react, the helicopter began to plummet towards the roof. I remember being thrown to the ground yet again, the coppery taste of blood filling my mouth. I saw stars, and my vision blurred. I barely registered the thundering shockwave of sound when the helicopter collided into the hotel.

Time seemed to slow down. It was like I was watching a movie in slow motion. The destroyed chopper was in flames. I could barely make out someone staggering away from the giant ball of fire, pulling someone with him.

Makarov.

"_LET GO OF ME YOU RUSSIAN BASTARD!" _the other man screamed. Was this Simon...?

"Captain Price, I thought you'd be glad to see your friend."

"_Let him...go...Simon..."_

I turned my head slowly. John was laying on the ground, ten meters away with Makarov looming over him like a hawk. A large piece of debris was pinning John to the ground, completely immobilizing vision flickered in and out of focus. I could barely comprehend what was going on.

"I wanted you to see this, Captain Price. I told you I was going to destroy your world, did I not? I found this young man, almost completely bled out, dragging himself away from his fallen friend. Who was it that tried to kill you, Simon? General Shepard?"

Simon tried to force himself out of Makarov's grip. But, even with my head falling into some kind of mental fog, I could tell that the British soldier was incredibly weak and thin, no doubt from being held prisoner for so long. He was no match for Makarov's strength.

"This is the final show, Captain Price. Watch carefully."

"_NO! __**DON'T DO THIS!**__"_

Makarov pulled out a gun. I extended my right arm, and dragged myself forward. Left arm. Again. I was moving unbearably slow, but I was making progress. My vision flickered. Black, red, blur. Black, red, blur.

Did Makarov see me? I didn't think so. He said something I couldn't hear. Simon was thrashing, struggling, trying to get out of Makarov's forceful grip. John was yelling desperately.

Right arm. Left arm. I wouldn't make it in time.

_BANG!_

The gun went off, and Simon fell to the ground. I bared my teeth. I was aware of a vast, unbearable pain in my torso and head, but my mind pushed it out. I was numb.

Right, left, right. I picked up a long, metal rod. It was heavy, but I was even closer to them now. Blood was pooling around Simon's body. John was screaming. Makarov was smiling.

I pulled myself to my feet, somehow, gripping the metal rod in my hand tightly. Makarov spotted me now and chuckled. I swung the rod at his head, but he caught it before I could make contact. He kicked me to the ground, and aimed the gun at my forehead.

_Goodbye, John. I love you._

I squeeze my eyes shut, before hearing the sound of a gunshot. But it wasn't Makarov. I heard him scream. I opened my eyes just in time to see him whirl around. Dimly, I realized there was someone standing behind him. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. I no doubt had a terrible concussion, and was loosing a lot of blood.

But it wasn't. Behind Makarov, was Yuri.

_YURI! YURI WATCH OUT-_

Before I could open my mouth, I was forced to watch as Makarov shot Yuri three times in the head, killing him instantly. He crumpled to the ground, and didn't move. I had enough.

I jumped to my feet, and swung the heavy, metal rod at Makarov's head. It made contact, causing him to stagger backwards. I bared my teeth, forgetting the pain that threatened to overwhelm me.

"_This is for SOAP!" _ I swung again, making contact once more. He yelled out in pain, doubling over.

"_And YURI!"_ Again. Blood was spilling down the side of his head.

"_And my PARENTS, you fucking BASTARD!" _Again. This time, he fell, and crumpled to the ground.

He wasn't dead, but he was unconscious. I was breathing heavily, feeling light-headed. Vaguely, I was aware of the cracked surface beneath my feet, as it was glass, and had nearly broken when the chopper crashed. Should I be panicking that it could give in at any moment, sending John and I plummeting God knows how far down? Probably.

_John._

He was breathing heavily underneath the huge piece of metal that was pinning him down to the ground. I rushed over to him, and together, we heaved it off of him. He gasped in relief, clutching his stomach as I helped him to his feet.

"Is he dead?!" he demanded, looking at me with wild eyes.

"No..."

He pulled out his pistol, and pushed past me, making his way over shards of rubble to Makarov's unconscious body. He aimed the pistol directly at Makarov's head, and looked at me.

"Petral-"

"Just do it."

I didn't watch. The two, loud explosions of gunfire were all I needed to hear. Makarov was dead.

An overwhelming surge of horror washed over me, as I began to process what had just occurred.

Yuri was dead.

"Yuri."

I felt tears sting behind my eyes as I made my way over to where Yuri laid. He was dead, his skin already cold as I gripped his hand as tightly as I could, kneeling beside him.

"You stupid bloody idiot...just wake up..._wake up!"_

I shook his body. He didn't stir.

"Petral. Petral, he's gone."

"_Shut up!" _I hissed, unable to tear my gaze away from the broken soldier. He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. _There was no way that Yuri could be dead. This wasn't fair!_

From everything I had seen, fighting with Soap, John, and Yuri, I was never able to cry. Not even when I had received news of my parents. Not when Soap died, not when I had initially thought we had lost Yuri.

But now it seemed like all those times where the tears never came suddenly came rushing back to me. My body shook with sobs. Tears poured down my face, and no matter how hard I tried, my body refused to stop.

I felt arms around me, but I pushed them away. I didn't want anyone's comfort.

"Petral. Look at me."

John gently took my shoulders, and turned me to face him.

I gave up. I couldn't do this by myself. I fell into his arms, allowing myself to become completely limp. He hugged me as tightly as he could. I cried into his shoulder, and allowed myself to cry out every hellish emotion that had built up inside me over the past year.

I finally stopped crying, and sat upright, feeling my head throb painfully. I was weak from blood loss, and so, so tired. I hoped desperately that help would be on the way soon.

"John...your friend...I'm so sorry..."

He gritted his teeth.

"Soap knew him better than I did. He was a good kid...a good soldier. He always hid his face behind that skeleton balaclava he always wore. It was strange...but God...I didn't realize..."

He trailed off, shaking his head.

"He didn't die for nothing," I told him. "We got him...Makarov's dead."

"We? You got him, girlie, I'd be dead if it weren't for you."

"It was Yuri. He shot him, and gave me enough time to get to my feet...We'd both be dead if it weren't for him."

He nodded slowly. "Yuri was a good man."

I closed my eyes. So, so tired...

But I knew I was suffering from serious damage in my skull. It was dangerous to fall asleep now.

I took John's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"We'll be alright. We'll move on from here."

"Yeah. Maybe we can."

I heard sirens in the distance. Help was on the way. We both sighed in relief, leaning against one another for support. We'd be okay.

Maybe it would take a while. But we'd carry on from here.

_**-Epilogue-Two months later**_

We both had really serious concussions, but we'd live. We were finally able to take showers for the first time in months. I never realized how amazing a shower really felt until then- I didn't get out until the water turned ice cold.

And I was able to brush my hair- with a hairbrush! I actually looked decent again.

I barely recognized John. He trimmed his beard and shaved, making him look years younger. I grinned broadly, so happy to see him so healthy-looking for once. I actually threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly, just happy that we were both alive and well.

We met up with Captain MacMillan in London, and managed to finally step outside without getting hounded by the press. We weren't ready to talk yet. In time, we would be, but not now. Not while the pain was still fresh in our minds.

MacMillan was an old SAS veteran, with the personality of an ox. He was nice to talk to, but he was very sarcastic and had a very forward way of speaking. I liked him though, and I knew John and him went way back.

He expressed his desire to rebuild the Task Force, which John and I already had in mind. He'd more than willingly help us start recruiting.

So, we did. We used the same base that he and Soap had trained in, right outside of London. Young, bright-eyed boys eagerly signed up. Some knew what they were getting into, some didn't. But only the most determined and hard-willed would make the team

Four weeks later, I was already getting the hang of ordering them around.

"Oi, JACOB! PICK IT UP! I know you're faster than that!"

John found it both amusing and satisfying at the same time.

He walked up to me after the sixth day of training, when we sent the boys to their barracks to get some sleep.

"What do you think so far?"

I sighed, putting my hands on my hips and looking around. We were standing outside, by the firing range. It was warm out, and a cool breeze blew across the camp. It was a cloudy, pleasant night. We sat down by the range, beside one another, and looked out across the camp.

"I'm feeling pretty good about all this...these are good, hard-working boys, you know? Sure, a few of them are hot-heads, but they'll straighten out eventually..."

He chuckled. "Yeah...Goddamn, I remember Soap's first day. My first words to him were "Soap? What the bloody hell kind of name is Soap? How'd a muppet like you pass inspection?"

We both laughed. It felt so, so good.

I looked at John, and smiled warmly. While it still killed me how broken he really was on the inside, I knew that things would get easier from here. Makarov was dead. The war was over, at least for now, and we could finally be at peace.

I moved to sit closer to him, leaning my head against his shoulder. It was such a nice night. I didn't want it to end.

"Do you ever plan on going back home?" he asked cautiously.

I frowned. "No. I don't. I don't have anything to go back to at home...and anyway, they've no doubt presumed me dead."

He nodded.

"Do you...want me to go?"

He frowned. "Of course not...what makes you think that?"

I shrugged. "I was just wondering..."

He sighed in frustration. "I guess I haven't made it clear, have I?"

"Made what clear?"

He laughed quietly and shook his head.

"Bloody hell, Petral, I've been in love with you practically since I've met you. So while I want you to meet some young lad who will fall all silly in love with you, I don't want you to leave."

I gaped at him. I didn't know what to say.

"Dammit. Right. Sorry 'bout that. Figured I should've said it at some point...You know, take the whole 'honesty' route here, 'cause quite frankly it was-"

"John."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

Before he could reply, I grabbed his vest, and kissed him. He seemed happy with it, so I didn't let go. I'm not sure how long we stayed that way, but neither one of us wanted it to end.

And I was happy with that.

As our world grew more and more bearable from that point on, there was something brand new being printed across nearly every news headline. Not just in the UK, but in America, and all across the world. It was horrifying, unbelievable, and I honestly doubted it's truth until the evidence started pouring in on nearly every news station and newspaper.

Apparently, during World War II, Germany had been working on something very secretive, and had managed to keep it out of the public eye for years. Only when a very curious journalist had been walking through one of the old testing labs in the ruins of a destroyed factory, where many Jews and gypsy children were put under horrid "medical experiments", had she found some horrific findings.

Apparently, Germany had been working on a program to raise the dead, using a chemical called "115", as said by the records and photographs found in a locked safe. They had been successful as well, and were planning on using this to aid the war effort on Hitler's behalf. I didn't believe it. No one did, until the scary photographs starting being released, one after the other online.

But apparently, that threat was still here. Shortly after the war, a group of men had been on the move, trying to deal with the threat of the risen undead through means of force. But they had disappeared, and had never been seen since.

It was all so crazy to take in. Many of us didn't believe it, but as more and more evidence came piling in, it was almost impossible not to see it as it was. A bunch of the boys were glued to the newspapers during lunch break, reading in as more and more documents became public. It was horrifying, yet fascinating, and unbelievable.

I sat in my office during lunch, reading the paper that had the latest update. Someone knocked on my door.

"Come in."

It was Private Samuel "Birdwing" Dawlson, with another, older man in a suit and tie.

"Captain Levark? This man said he wanted to speak with you."

"Thank you, private, you can go now."

"Yes, ma'am."

He left, leaving the man and I alone in the room.

"Hello, Captain Levark. My name is Daniel Marley, may I come in?"

I nodded, setting my newspaper down. "Of course. Sit down, please."

He took a seat opposite of me. He was tall, with ruffled brown hair, and dark brown eyes.

"How can I help you?" I asked.

"I understand that you and Captain Price were responsible for the assassination of ultranationalist leader Vladimir Makarov, correct?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that was us."

He smiled. "I thought so. You know, Captain, the whole "risen undead" headline hasn't been the only thing going public. The both of you are very well-known across Europe and the United States."

I sighed. "Yes, I'm aware..."

He chuckled. "Well, it certainly got _my_ attention, which is why I wanted to talk to you. You see, I'm one of the many people responsible for unearthing the evidence on this whole situation involving Germany and their secretive program that took place during World War II. Recently, a lot more has been going on than what the papers have been releasing. The undead threat has been here, ever since World War II. The government has just been doing a very good job at keeping it quiet, until now."

I crossed my legs, interested. "So what you're saying is, this has been an ongoing issue?"

"Yes. These undead, some call them "zombies", were completely outside of Group 935's control. I'm sure you've heard that Group 935 was the organization directly responsible for running this program. That was why the group disappeared so suddenly back in the 40's. They were overrun. All the members died."

I frowned. "Okay..."

"It has come to my attention that this organization has been continuing."

He pulled out several pieces of paper from his bag and showed them to me. They were photographs, a few in black and white, and a few in color. Large crowds of what looked like people were swarming around several buildings and small areas that were long abandoned. Examining them more closely, I could tell that they weren't people...or at least not entirely human. They were emaciated, their skin was gray, and they looked like they were rotting right down to the ground.

"So these..."zombies"...have been an ongoing threat since WorldWarII?"

"Yes. My fellow coworkers and I have been trying to establish an undercover group of people to help stop it. Supplied with weapons, supplies, and and medication, we send them out to go and find this new organization that's still doing this, and eliminate these undead along the way...the thing is, we need better people. Better soldiers. And that's when we thought of you, Captain."

"I'm assuming this is incredibly dangerous."

He chuckled. "Well, yes. Very. But danger isn't exactly news to you, right?"

I smiled a little, leaning back in my chair. Interesting.

Looking back, I would have thought I had enough danger for a lifetime. But this was new, wasn't it? This was a threat to everyone around me. The boys I was training. The man I loved.

"Here are some photographs of the men we've sent out previously...however...they disappeared a while back. We do not know what happened to them. Yes, Captain Levark, this would be a very dangerous mission. But we'd be willing to pay. A lot. And danger, Captain Levark, is not exactly news to you."

Oh no, danger was most definitely not news to me.

Protecting people was something I was good at. And if this meant I could save a few more lives, then why not?

"What about Captain Price?"

"We would be more than happy to welcome him onto the team as well."

That was all I needed to hear.

"Sign me up."

**A/N: Group 935, including the situation involving the "zombies" is property of Call of Duty: Black Ops I.**

**Well, it's been eight months, but finally I'm finished. While I'm happy to finally be done, I'm also a little sad, since this has been so much fun to write! I would like to dedicate the song "Emergency" by Paramore to Petral and John's building relationship throughout the story.**

**I left the ending open, because I do have an idea for a zombies story in mind, and I was considering putting Petral in it. I really liked developing her character, and would really like to add her in somewhere else where she's a now fully-experienced soldier. But it's still up in the air.**

**Thank you all for supporting me in this along the way. I've had so much fun writing this, and hope I've made it enjoyable for you guys to read!**


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